Mad and Impossible
by GKingOfFez
Summary: James Potter would never give up his daughter for anything. Series of tiny snapshots, AU, Fem!Harry, Alive!Marauders
1. Mad

_So, this is from a little AU I've been thinking of lately, just a little drabble brought on by a sudden inspiration (yes, I did do what Jamie did- don't judge me!) that I typed up while once again procrastinating my Science assignment._

_Anyway, enjoy the randomness!_

…

James Potter would never give up his daughter for anything. Not for a million Galleons, or all the Honeydukes chocolate in the world. He loved her more than anything, and couldn't imagine life without her.

"Hey, Dad!" She said to him one day, approaching him in the garden of their home in Godric's Hollow.

"What's up, Jamie?" He replied, waving his wand and causing the multitude of weeds which had been sneaking up on him over the last few months to uproot themselves and land in a neat pile on the grass.

"I just found the coolest place to hide my wand. Watch!" And to James' horror, she reached down her shirt, right between her breasts (wait, her breasts?) and pulled out her wand with flourish. James wasn't quite sure how he hadn't noticed it before.

"Hmm, that's odd," she said, running her fingers along the smooth wood, "It's warm."

James couldn't speak, his tongue stuck somewhere between horrified and completely disgusted. What had just happened? Why had she done that?

…was she serious?

A sound that resembled air being forced out a balloon escaped from Jamie's mouth, and within seconds she had dissolved into fits of laughter. Taken aback, James could only stare incredulously at his nearly 14 year old daughter.

"You should see your face!" She gasped, doubling over. "That's priceless!" She cried, wiping tears from her eyes. "Sirius was right, you _are_ easy!"

It was several minutes until the teenager straightened up, hiccupping slightly to find James frowning at her as though he was trying to remember something.

"What? Why are you looking at me like that?"

He took about a minute to reply, racking his memory, but coming up with nothing. He looked her right in the eye, a serious expression on his face which wiped the grin from her face, and asked, "Since when do you have breasts?"

The smile returned as fast as it had vanished, along with the laughter. She turned away from him, giggling madly, and headed back towards the house.

"I'm serious!" He called after her, his frustration building when he was answered with an increase in volume of her now uncontrollable laughter.

He watched as the door shut behind her, muffling the sound slightly, before a grin spread over his face.

Yes, James Potter would never give up his daughter for anything. Not for a million Galleons, or all the Honeydukes chocolate in the world. Even though she was completely mad, and impossible, and he didn't understand her one bit, he still loved her more than anything, and couldn't imagine life without her.


	2. Awesome

_Seriously, when I put up the first story, it was intended to be just a stupid little oneshot. But I guess now it'll probably become a collection of stupid little oneshots._

_And yes, I did do this one as well. T'is an awesome thing to do, but now my fingers hurt. :(_

_Thanks to everyone for your positive feedback~!_

...

"Jamie," James said softly, knocking quietly on her bedroom door, "Time to wake up, sweetheart. It's your big day." He opened the door, expecting to find his daughter still curled up deeply in her blankets and grumbling for a few more minutes. And was therefore surprised when she shrieked in surprise and twirled around where she stood, pointing her new wand in his direction, tripping over her feet in the process. She crashed to the floor.

"You said nine!" She cried indignantly, as James tried to stifle his sniggers.

"It is nine," James replied, watching as she rubbed the spot on her back that had hit the floor and pretended to be rubbing his nose to hide his smile.

"Oh." Jamie pulled herself back to her feet and quickly located her wand, which had flown out of her hand. She dusted off her rumpled pyjamas, and flicked some of her shoulder-length black hair out of her face, the rest of it sitting un-brushed, and puffed out in every direction on the top of her head. The rounded glasses she wore were perched rather lopsidedly on her nose, but she quickly adjusted them so they sat straight.

"What were you doing?" He asked incredulously, wondering why she hadn't still been asleep like every other morning that summer. To his increasing surprise, she blushed a deep red and quickly hid her wand behind her back, even though he had already seen it.

"Nothing."

James raised his eyebrow at her, feeling extremely curious at her odd behaviour. "Really?" He replied, drawing out the consonants. "Then why have you got your wand out? You won't be able to do magic for another few hours."

For several seconds, she stared determinedly at her bare feet, until finally sighing in defeated sort-of-way and saying, "Ok, I'll show you, but you have to promise not to laugh."

"I won't," he said.

Sighing again, Jamie moved to stand in the middle of her floor, her wand pointed out in front of her. With one last unsure glance at James, she took a deep breath, steadying herself, before flicking her wrist upwards and sending her wand twirling up into the air. It twisted, one, twice, three times, before beginning its descent, falling right past her outstretched hand and bouncing slightly on the carpet, rolling out of sight.

James raised his eyebrow. "Was that it?" He asked, as she scrambled to retrieve it. If she had been red before, it was nothing to what she was now.

"No! No, that wasn't it!" She cried, righting herself and waving furiously at him, her wand once again clutched within her grip. "I'll try again."

And she did. The wand twirled through the air again, although this time landed right in Jamie's outstretched hand, the right way and everything.

James felt a grin sliding onto his face, but managed to contain it.

"Why were you doing that?"

"I-I don't know, I just thought it'd be cool if I could…" she trailed off, looking awkward.

"If you could…?"

Jamie looked him right in the eye, "It was just a stupid thing. I thought it's be pretty awesome if I could, I don't know, point my wand at something, and do it," she demonstrated again, the wand once again landing square in the middle of her palm, "And then cast some spell, or something…" She trailed off again, although James thought he heard the words 'cool' and 'awesome' again.

He looked at her, his face completely blank and she looked back, uncomfortably shifting from foot to foot, and twisting her wand between her hands.

Then, after a good ten seconds, James burst into laughter, and gave his 11-year-old daughter a quick hug, laughing harder at the expression on her face.

"You said you wouldn't laugh!" She scowled, as James turned to leave.

"Sorry love, I couldn't help myself." He hiccupped, "Come on, get ready; you'll be off to Hogwarts soon, and then you'll be able to show everyone your awesome wand skills." He then quickly closed the door behind him to avoid the pillow that was thrown in his direction.

Still chuckling, James pulled out his own wand and gave it a flick into the air, surprised when it landed right back in his hand.

"Hmm, that _is_ pretty cool…"


	3. Cold

_What's this? Two updates in less than a day? Have I gone mad?_

_Inspiration from this came from a conversation I heard between two boys in my form class._

…

It was snowing lightly by the time he found her, wedged between Ron and Hermione as they all peered into the packed shop window of Zonkos, deciding whether or not to go in.

"I'm cold," he grumbled by way of greeting, packing his arms tightly to his chest as he sidled up to them. They all glanced at him, Jamie giving him a particularly odd look.

"Hi, Cold," she said, holding out her gloved hand, "Nice to meet you. My name's Jamie."

Ron and Hermione stifled their smirks into their scarves, as James took his daughter's hand, and shook it. She had a firm grip for 13.

"Nice to meet you too," he replied, grinning from ear to ear.


	4. War

_Happy birthday, Harry Potter and Jo Rowling!_

_I'm on a roll, aren't I? _

…

"Happy birthday, pup!" James cried, setting down a massive chocolate cake in front of his daughter. "Baked it myself, even the words," he said proudly, taking a step back to admire his handiwork. It was rather good.

His now 1 year old daughter squealed in delight, clapping her tiny hands together to say she approved, and started babbling excitedly.

"James!" Lily, snapped from the sink where she was doing the dishes the Muggle way. "I thought I told you no chocolate! She won't settle down for her nap if she's packed full of sugar."

James tried not to roll his eyes. "But it's her first birthday! And it's tradition in my family for a Potter's first cake to be chocolate!"

Lily's eyes narrowed dangerously, and he had to resist the urge to duck and run. "Then why haven't I heard of this before?" She asked venomously.

"Because… um, uh…" he began, glancing wildly around the tiny kitchen for an excuse. "Because-"

Splat!

They both looked around at the same time, to find Jamie with her little fist embedded within the cake and icing covering half her face. The little girl giggled, pulling her hand back out to find it covered in cake and icing, and brought it to her face to lick it, missing her mouth by several centimetres and leaving a trail of brown all up her nose.

Lily rushed forward and pulled the cake out of her reach, lifting the baby up into her arms to get a better look at her. "Mummy!" Jamie cried, smiling at her with small, brown teeth and trying to touch Lily's face with her chocolate covered hand.

By this time, James was laughing so hard he had to use the table to hold himself up. "I think she likes the cake," he wheezed, seeing Lily try and fail to hide a smile, her anger from a few minutes before disappearing.

"We need a picture of this," she cried suddenly, depositing Jamie back into her high chair and running out of the room.

"Did you hear that, pup?" He said, sitting down on the chair nearest to hers, leaning in closer so that their faces were inches apart, "Mummy's going to take a picture of you, so when you're older, we can have blackmail material."

The little girl looked at him, with her piercing green eyes and started babbling wildly, waving her tiny arms around and slamming the tray attached to her chair. This only made him laugh harder.

"What's wrong, pup?" He chortled., "Are you worried that- hey!" Jamie's chocolate covered fist came out of nowhere, slamming itself against his face and splattering his glasses with brown. He jumped up with a cry as she giggled again, sending her a death glare.

"Oh, is that how it's going to be, eh?" He said evilly, grabbing a chunk of cake from the plate and bringing it down on top of her head. "Well, two can play at that game."

His smugness didn't last long, as she reached up and grabbed a heap of brown sludge from her hair, and threw it at him with all her might. It hit him square on the face again, and he was suddenly blind, his glasses covered completely.

"This is war," he announced, pulling out his wand to clean his glasses, while also levititating the entire plate of what was left of his masterpiece of a cake above his daughter's head, and as gently as he could, tipped it over so that all he could see was a great moving brown thing sitting in a high chair.

"Yes!" He cried victoriously, dodging a bit of cake that came flying towards him (man, could she throw!) and gathered up some of the cake on the floor to throw back.

"What in heaven's is going on here?" Lily shrieked, and James looked around mid-throw to find her standing in the doorway, camera in hand, looking from her ruined kitchen to the baby giggling madly in the high chair covered head to toe in cake, and finally to James, a fire burning within her eyes.

"She started it," he said automatically.


	5. Sing

_Yay for updating! Don't you just love randomly breaking out into song?_

_And, as you can probably see from my avatar, I GOT INTO FREAKING POTTERMORE, PEOPLE. :DDDDDDDDDD_

…

It was mid-morning, in the middle of the summer holidays, when James descended the stairs of his home with a yawn. He walked across the hall and made to enter the house's tiny kitchen, but stopped in the doorway, leaning against the frame when he found his daughter, Jamie Rose Potter, sitting with his back to him at the table. He smiled as he stared at her, her long black hair still un-brushed and puffed up in odd places.

He wished quiet moments like this would last forever, with her just sitting there, oblivious and beautiful, and him smiling peacefully as he watched her. He wanted nothing more than for her to stay like this forever, innocent and messy-haired, but he knew all-too well that that was completely impossible. He'd wished the same when she had been just a baby, and since then, she had seen and done things that he couldn't imagine.

He sighed quietly, and moved to finally enter the room when something stopped him, and he silently leant back against the frame again. Jamie had started to hum, some off-key tune which he vaguely recognised, and was tapping one of her feet against the floor. His grin widened. Soon, the rest of her body was moving slightly to the beat of the nameless hum, which was getting louder, until finally she jumped right out of her seat and started dancing wildly, not seeming to take notice that he was in the room.

James watched on, amused, as she started to sing, and he finally recognised the song.

"Oh! Can you dance like a hippogriff?" She sang, starting to shake her hips and bang her head, "Na na na na na na na na na! Flying off from a cliff? Na na na na na na na na na!" Her arms started air guitaring, moving randomly through the air.

"Swinging _down_ to the ground?" Jamie dipped, and nearly touched the floor, flipping her hair back up when she stood again, "Na na na na na na na na na! Spinning 'round and around and around and around? Na na na na na na na na na! Yeah!"

She ended her little routine with a bow, "I'm here all week, people!" She called, and James wondered if she expected someone to answer.

Giggling madly, she went to sit back down (he could just imagine the huge grin on her face) flicking her now even messier hair out of her face as she did, and their eyes met for a second. She stopped laughing at once and did a double take, finally seeing him standing in the doorway. She squeaked in much the same way as a mouse would, and jumped back out of her chair, turning to face him

"How long have you been standing there?" She demanded, the smallest amount of anger in her voice and her face a dark red.

"Long enough," James answered with a winning smile, as Jamie squeaked again.

"Why didn't you say something?"

He opened his mouth to answer, a teasing joke on the tip of his tongue, but suddenly stopped, closing it again.

His daughter looked at him oddly, still a deep red, and puffing slightly from her small dance performance. She was completely mad. And he loved her for it. At that moment, what James wanted more than anything in the world was for his little girl to stay this way forever.

"Don't ever change, kiddo," he said solemnly, staring at her for just a second longer before turning and leaving the room and his frowning daughter behind.


	6. Tongue

_Booyah, two in one night! I'm on fire! _

_*looks at self* Oh my god, I'm actually on fire! *stops, drops and rolls*_

_It's chocolate time!_

…

"Pass the peas, would you honey?" James asked, through a mouthful of mashed potato, and pointing to the container of peas sitting at her elbow.

She scoffed in return, looking disgusted at him."Don't talk with your mouth full, Dad. It's bad manners," she scolded, and James shut up immediately, inexplicably reminded of Lily. "And say please!"

"Ok, ok," he said quickly, holding up his hands in surrender before swallowing. "Jamie, dear, would you _please_ pass the peas?" He pointedly stared at her, raising his eyebrows when she didn't pass over the container.

"Jamie," he said in his most serious voice, and she finally obliged, sending him a smug look before returning to her plate. He knew she just liked making him squirm.

"I think you've been spending too much time with Hermione," James told her conversationally, scooping the small green vegetables onto his own plate, "All this stuff about manners. And she's been making you actually do your homework! Sirius told me this would happen," he added gloomily, making it sound like it was the end of the world.

His daughter scoffed at him again, opening her mouth to make some sort of retort through a mouthful of peas and carrots, but James held up his hand.

"Ah! No talking with your mouth full, missus," he tutted, shaking his head and holding back a smile. "It's bad manners."

She looked at him venomously, her eyes narrowed, and started to chew, looking furious at the smug look James sent her. How he loved payback.

Mid angry chew, Jamie suddenly stopped, her eyes wide, and her hand flying to her mouth. She seemed to convulse a bit, tears starting to stream down her face, as James went from payback-mode to concerned-parent mode as fast as it took to flick a switch.

"Jamie!" He cried, jumping up from his chair and pulling out his wand, "What is it, what happened?"

She made a funny sort of noise, like a strangled cat, which muffled through her hands sounded extremely odd.

"What?"

Jamie lifted her hand away and seemed to repeat the same strangled cat noise as before, although this time he thought it sounded remarkably like, "By bit buy bung."

"What?" James repeated, incredulously.

She opened her mouth wider, and was disgusted to see what was left of the peas and carrots stained from with a red liquid.

"I bit," Jamie said, more slowly, "my tongue," she finished, bringing her hand back to her mouth and drawing it away again, this time covered in that mysterious red liquid which he now saw was blood.

For a second, James felt so relieved he could have laughed. He had been absolutely certain that something bad had happened. He had imagined Death Eaters breaking down the front door, and Voldemort himself storming after them. But, of course, he was being ridiculous.

"By dib you get bor wand oubt?" His daughter said, looking annoyed before repeating, "I meant, why did you get your wand out?"

James shrugged, "I dunno," he said, before sitting back down in his seat and replacing his wand in his pocket.

"Right," she replied, dabbing at her mouth with a handkerchief.


	7. Too Fast

_This came from yet another overheard conversation at school. Seriously, the people around me are weird._

…_not you guys, of course. _

…

"Hurry up, dad, we're gonna be late!" Jamie cried, running ahead of him with a trolley pushed in front of her, almost crashing into a group of shrieking school children when she glanced over her shoulder.

"The train leaves at eleven!" James replied, exasperated, jogging to catch up and quickly checking his watch, "We have plenty of time! It's only ten to."

"Yeah, but I said I'd meet Ron and Hermione!" She called, the barrier between Platforms 9 and 10 becoming closer every second. He blinked, and suddenly she was gone.

"Oh, for Merlin's sake!" He cursed, taking the barrier at a run behind her and emerging onto the steamy station platform of the ever-magical Platform 9 and ¾.

"Jamie!" He called through the din of meowing cats, hooting owls and laughing school-children, "Jamie Potter, where are you!"

"Over here!" Came a reply, and he turned to see her waving him over from amongst a sea of ginger, which told him that Weasleys were all ready here. "Don't do that!" He reprimanded, huffing, as he approached them, waving in greeting at Molly as he came.

Jamie didn't seem to hear him, immediately turning towards her friend Ronald Weasley with an excited smile on her face. "Ron, guess what?"

"What?" Ron said, grinning down at her (had he grown taller over the summer?). "You're pregnant?" His eyes growing wide as soon as he said it.

"What?" Several voices cried at once, everyone in the immediate vicinity jerking their heads in Ron's direction.

James felt like he had taken a blow from a bludger to the head. "What did you just say?" He said in a low, venom filled voice, which, despite the noise surrounding them, still managed to be heard by every single person present.

"I-I just, I- I don't!" The youngest male ginger squeaked, meeting James' gaze with two terror filled blue eyes. "I don't know why I said that!"

Jamie, who had gone slightly red and had her mouth slightly open, glanced between the two of them, an evil smile appearing on her face. To James' increasing horror, she threw an arm around Ron's shoulder, pulling him closer and turned on one of her brightest smiles.

"That's right, Ron." She said to him cheerily, "I'm pregnant. And, of course, the reason I'm telling you first is because _you're_ the father." The emphasis on the you're made James wince. Noticing this, Ron squeaked even louder, meeting James' murderous gaze for a second and then desperately tried to twist out of Jamie's grip, but to no avail. She turned them both to face James.

"Sorry dad," She said, and James, who was torn between pulling out his wand and cursing Ron to oblivion and collapsing to the ground, didn't notice the smirk on her face or the way she was trying very hard not to laugh.

"I-I, bu-but you're only 14! How could this happen?" He spluttered, running one hand through his hair, and reaching for his pocket with the other.

"Well, when a mummy and a daddy love each other very much-" After this she could not continue, as she doubled over clutching her stomach and wheezing, allowing a red-faced Ron to escape and scarper over to hide behind his mother.

"What are you laughing at?" James said, slightly hysterical, "This isn't a funny matter!"

His daughter recovered herself enough to rolled her eyes in an extremely exasperated way, causing the youngest Weasley, Ginny, started giggling into her hands. "I was _joking_, dad," she said, collapsing into another fit of giigles.

"What!" James yelped, clutching at his heart.

"I'm not actually pregnant. It was a joke. You are _way_ too easy."

"Bu- but!"

Stuck halfway between relief and anger and cursing Ron, James could only stutter as Jamie stood on her tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek, still laughing as she turned to walk towards the train.

Ron made to follow her, glancing back nervously and yelling, "Sorry Mr Potter! I really don't know why I said that," before disappearing in the crowd of parents and students waiting to board the train.

"They grow up much too fast," Molly said a few minutes later, tears and a mischievous glint in her eyes as she glanced at him, waving the train and the children off.

James could only nod in agreement.


	8. Hair Part 1

_Big thanks to everyone taking the time to read and review. Special thanks to BaltaineShadow for consistency. _

_This came to me last night while I was playing my hair and my wand at the same time. I'm so mature, aren't I, playing with a wand all the time? xD_

_EDIT: Check out my Draco/Jamie story, **A Fascinating Distraction**. *shameless advertising* I know at least one of you asked for them. :P_

…

"Dad!" The call echoed through the house, travelling down the carpeted stairs and causing James Potter, a cup of coffee an inch from his mouth, to sigh in slight irritation.

"Dad, are you there?"

He groaned, for a second considering playing deaf and pretending to be out, but instantly decided against it. "Yeah, I'm here," he called in return.

There was a short silence, that was immediately followed by several thumps from directly above him, and he frowned at the ceiling. "Jamie, are you all right?"

Her reply was a slightly muffled, "Yeah," although after another short silence and more thumping, it was followed by, "Actually could you come and help me with something?"

Sighing again, James set his cup of coffee on the table and pushed his chair back, starting to tread the familiar path up the stairs to his daughter's room, knocking before entering.

"So what do you need help with-" he stopped in his tracks, the sight before him almost rendering him speechless. Almost.

"I see you've found a new place to keep your wand," he said, not even bothering to hide a grin, "What happened to stuffing it down your bra? It hid it better, plus it was easier to pull out!"

Jamie glared at him from the floor, desperately tugging at the wooden shaft of her wand that was currently wrapped and twisted into the black rats nest she called hair. "You idiot, I didn't do it on purpose!" She cried indignantly, "It's your fault I inherited your stupid messy hair. How was I supposed to know that twirling my wand around in it a few times would get it stuck?" She crossed her arms, looking extremely irritated, as James sniggered away behind his hand.

"Are you going to help me, or not?"

Composing his face into a serious expression (a look he had recently perfected), he leaned against the frame of the door and crossed his arms as well, gazing down upon her. "I suppose. What will you give me in return?"

"What!" Jamie shrieked, "I'm your _daughter_ . You can't make me _trade_ for help!"

James raised his eyebrows, "Well, if you don't want any help, then I'll just be on my jolly way." He turned to leave as Jamie's eyes went wide, and she jumped to her feet, starting to splutter incoherently.

He was at the top of the stairs when a stomping of feet behind him made him turn, just as she yelled, "All right, you win!" and he watched through the still open door of her bedroom as she crossed her arms and stomped over to the bed, sitting cross-legged on the floor and pouting heavily.

"Wonderful," James said, grinning smugly at her and walked back over, pulling out his own wand at the same time.

Fifteen minutes later and he was in a completely different mood, almost whooping in triumph when the holly and phoenix feather wand landed with a clatter on the floor, instead, groaning in exhaustion, knuckling a crack out of his back and laying back on the bed he was sitting on, still cursing under his breath and resisting the urge to simply use a quick slicing charm and chop all the dark tangles off.

"Don't put your wand anywhere near your hair ever _again_," he growled at his daughter, who sat on the floor in front of him, running her fingers through her hair in an effort to tame the knots that had sprung into existence through James' many botched attempts over the last quarter hour to free the wand.

She nodded, wincing as her thin fingers met a particularly nasty looking knot near her left ear. She struggled with it for several minutes before giving up and looking at him with a resigned look in her eyes.

"So, what do I have to give you in return," she sighed, sounding defeated.

James, who had completely forgotten about their earlier deal, was momentarily confused. Soon after, however, an evil smile spread across his features as plans for revenge filled his mind's eye. "Oh, you'll find out soon enough…"

Jamie looked at him warily, looking slightly afraid. "You are truly evil, aren't you?"

He gave an evil sounding laugh. "What do you expect? I'm a Marauder, it's part of the job description."


	9. Hair Part 2

_My longest one yet._

_Revenge is sweet._

_You know what, I might even do a Part Three…_

…

The fireplace burst into life, green flames licking the mantelpiece as a rapidly spinning figure slowed and stepped into existence on the carpet. "Good morning, Hermione," James said, looking up from his book to smile at the bushy haired witch as she brushed away the soot and ash from her journey.

"Good morning, Mr Potter," she replied cheerily, glancing over her shoulder as the fireplace roared to life again, and a tall redheaded young man stepped out behind her, looking queasy.

"Hey Mr Potter," Ron greeted with a half-hearted wave, clutching his stomach and looking particularly green. James hoped he wasn't about to barf on his grandmother's carpet.

"How are you doing, Ron?" James asked, putting his book down and sitting up, a little concerned. "Are you ill?"

"No," Hermione quickly answered for him, before Ron could even open his mouth, rolling her eyes exasperatedly, "He just had one too many pieces of bacon for breakfast. I told him not to, but he didn't listen."

The other boy scowled at her, crossing his arms. What with him being several inches taller than Hermione, the gesture was quite intimidating. "You know, you're not my mother."

"I _know_ that," the girl replied haughtily, putting her hands on her hips and turning around to face the youngest Weasley, fixing him with a glare that James wasn't surprised when the redhead recoiled slightly.

"Really? I don't think you do."

"Oh, _please_, Ron, you knew we were coming here. It's not _my_ fault you took five times as much bacon as everyone else-"

"It was not five times!"

"Come on, kids!" James cried over their bickering voices, slightly amused. Watching the two of them, he couldn't help but be reminded of Lily and himself at school. "Play nice."

The pair of them turned in his direction looking surprised as though they had forgotten he was there, and opened their mouths to reply, but were cut off as the echoing bang of a door closing made them all glance towards the stairs.

"Dad," a voice called, "Did I hear the Floo?"

"Yeah, honey," James yelled in reply, suddenly grinning widely, "Ron and Hermione are here."

"Oh good." Feet started stomping down the stairs. James had seconds to execute his plan.

He quickly turned to the two 14 year olds. "Can you guys do me a favour?' They both nodded, looking curious, "Ok, for the moment, just stand right in front of the door. Just there will do." He pointed to where he wanted them to go, and they did so. "Now…" James pulled his wand from his pocket and pointed it at the top of the doorframe, where a bucket full of blue liquid sat, just waiting to be tipped over.

He chuckled evilly, glancing at his daughter's best friends, both of them having noticed the bucket. Ron was grinning like a maniac, having caught on, while Hermione was looking distinctly disapproving, but said nothing.

"Ron! Hermione!" Jamie cried, coming around the corner at speed and entering the doorway, just as James raised his wand. "How have you-?"

Splat! The bucket tipped over, covering the girl in a bright blue sludge. Another glance at Ron and Hermione told him that the former was doubled over with silent laughter, while the latter had a hand over her mouth so as to hide several giggles.

"Yeah, we've been all right, Jame," Ron wheezed.

Jamie spluttered, trying to wipe the potion from her eyes and face. She looked at her hands, then up the occupants of the room, removing her glasses for a better look, sending James a particularly death-promising glare.

"You're going to pay for this-" she started, but he held up a hand to silence her.

"Actually, I'm not," he said smugly, in a business like fashion, holding his hands behind his back. "You see, you are currently covered in special concoction of mine, a multipurpose hair and skin dye. Any part of your skin or hair that has come in contact with it will be a bright blue for the next week or so." He paused to let the horror of that statement sink in, fishing out a small vial of clear liquid out of his pocket while he did so, "Unless, you wash yourself with this." He held up the vial, smirking as her eyes widened and she held her hand out expectantly.

"Ah, ah, ah, you're forgetting something, dear."

Jamie gave an extremely exaggerated eye roll in Hermione's direction. "Fine. _Please_, dad."

"No, not that. Although manners are important, wouldn't you agree Hermione?" He smiled at the bushy haired teenager, who looked like she wanted to answer, but didn't trust herself to open her mouth, instead smothering it with her hands, while Ron sniggered away in earnest behind her.

"What then?"

"I'm talking about a deal we recently made, involving a wand and that mess you call hair." He watched as the blue skin on Jamie's forehead crinkled in confusion, then blue eyebrows shot up in understanding and horror, until finally her blue lips pouted in resignation.

"What do you want me to do?" She sighed.

"It's simple enough," he smiled a winning smile, making a show stowing the vial back into his pocket along with his wand.

Jamie seemed to get the message. "You want me to walk around looking like a blueberry for a week?" She cried.

"Yes."

She shook her blue head. "You are an evil old man," she said, while Ron and Hermione finally gave in and collapsed into fits of raucous laughter.

"I think I'm going to be sick!" Ron gasped.


	10. Hair Part 3

_The last of the Hair Trilogy, I swear it. It's back to normal from now on._

_Pretty please, review. *puppy dog eyes*_

…

"Lots of eggs, dad?" Jamie asked from the frying pan, where the sizzling sound of bacon and eggs was making James's mouth water.

"Yes, please!" He said enthusiastically, his stomach agreeing when a large plate filled half with eggs and half with bacon was pushed in front of him by a bright blue hand.

Eagerly picking up his knife and fork, he openly grinned at his daughter, "Thank you, bluey!" he said in a cheerful voice, and she glared at him before returning to the stove, brushing her blue hair back behind her blue ear. He chuckled. There was still two days left until the effects of his prank wore off, and he intended to relish every single second.

"Eggs, Sirius?" His daughter asked the man sitting next to him at the table, his best mate Sirius Black, who shook his head.

"Nah, I'm fine, pup," Sirius replied, casually leaning back in his chair with his hands behind his head.

"Suit yourself," the teenager replied, setting down a plate of bacon for him and some of each for herself, immediately munching on some bacon rinds.

The three ate in silence for several minutes, James alternating between gulping down his morning coffee, crunching on his bacon, taking spoonfuls of scrambled eggs, silently laughing at his blueberry of a daughter and thinking how nice it was for her to offer to make the breakfast.

And then, all of a sudden, said nice daughter started giggling madly. "Sorry," she said when he looked up at her, confused, "I-I just thought of something funny." She and Sirius exchanged a look, and James was annoyed to see a similar mischievous smile playing at both their mouths.

"What is up with you two?" He asked after a hastily swallowed mouthful of eggs so that he could talk.

"Oh, nothing, Prongs." Sirius said with a careless wave of his hand, and quickly changed the subject, "So… how are Ron and Hermione, Jamie?" Sirius asked conversationally with a sideways glance at James, the grin still firmly in place.

"Oh they… they're fine, Padoot," Jamie said slowly, with an exaggerated nod, covering more giggles. This got James' attention, and he looked at her cautiously, frowning.

"What?" He asked, holding her gaze as she struggled to keep a straight face.

"Nothing," she said in an 'I'm innocent' voice, and alarm bells started going off in James' head. His attention snapped to the plate before him, his eyes widening when he realised his mistake. Since when had Jamie become so nice as to willingly make him breakfast? And why had Sirius, of today of all days, decided to come over for breakfast?

"What did you do?" He said in a horrified voice, jumping up from his chair and pointed an accusing finger at the pair of them, who were looking at him amusedly.

"_I_ didn't do anything," Jamie stated simply, returning to her bacon with a smirk on her face (James suddenly realised that she had yet to touch her eggs).

Sirius, who had been shaking with silent mirth in his seat, stood up and took a bow, grinning a grin that James had come to associate at Hogwarts with a completed prank.

"What did you do?" James repeated more venomously, narrowing his eyes. Sirius pulled a small mirror out of the pocket of his robes and wordlessly handed it over.

With a kind of desperation, James held it up to his face and almost dropped it again in shock. His hair and face had turned ginger! "What is this?" He shrieked, pulling at a strand of his now bright red hair.

"Oh, your basic Colour Change Solution," Sirius said, as James looked down his shirt to see a red wave travel slowly downwards towards his nether region. "Unfortunately, this one's been modified to resist all forms of removal, so you'll be stuck with it for about a week."

James gaped at him for a full five seconds, noticing that the redness had now spread to his hands, before rounding on his daughter.

" I think blue is better than red," she said, with a smirk.

"The deal's off!" He said furiously, his face morphing into a cruel smile, "Which means that you still owe me, and trust me, this time I won't be so soft on you."

"Why, whatever do you mean, dad?" Jamie simpered in an infuriatingly calm voice, her eyebrows high.

James blanched, pointing at her skin and hair. "_That_ is what I mean. You weren't _supposed_ to prank me back, and now because you have, the entire thing is off."

"You know, technically," Sirius interjected, and James whipped his head in his direction, "_she_ didn't actually prank you, Prongs, I did."

"He's actually telling the truth," Jamie agreed, "I had no idea, I swear. I didn't even know if he'd put the thing in the eggs or the bacon, until I asked."

"It's true," Sirius told him solemnly.

James looked at him, scrutinising his every tiny move for any hint of dishonesty, before turning to glare again at his daughter, going back and forth between the two several more times until he was forcibly reminded him of the time the muggle neighbours playing that mental game, tinnas, or whatever it was called.

"Jame, I think we broke him," Sirius finally said in a stage whisper behind his hand. "Prongs, you all right, mate?"

When James tried and failed to respond (his mind was strangely unresponsive), Sirius, absent-mindedly fished around in his pocket and pulled out a small vial. "Seeing as you seem to be out of order at the moment, now might be a good time to tell you that I lied before, and that this will get the red out, easy." He waved the vial around, and James seemed to snap back into reality.

"Give me that!" He snarled, pulling his wand out.

"Say please!" Jamie cried.


	11. Father

_Yes, I know it's been a while. Blame it on life, school and procrastination._

_So, today was Father's Day. Yeah. And I figured I'd do something special. Yeah._

_And I finally got my Pottermore email as well. I got into Ravenclaw, which is slightly disappointing, 'cuz I'm Hufflepuff all the way. Not that I'm really complaining… *grumbles*_

…

It was a lovely sunny Sunday the day James Potter descended the stairs, his nose and stomach immediately gravitating towards the kitchen where a truly delicious smell was wafting through the door towards him.

"Mmmm…" he groaned, his mouth watering as he entered the room and Jamie grinned at him from the frying pan.

"Good morning dad!" She said cheerfully, humming to herself.

"Is that pancakes?" He asked, taking a seat at the table.

"Yup," she replied cheerfully, flipping one of the oddly shaped brown things in the pan (which he supposed were meant to be pancakes) over onto its other side.

"Are you sure?" He asked playfully, eyeing them doubtfully and grinning when she chuckled.

"Yes, dad."

"Okay, just making sure," he said. She chuckled again, and walked over to him, depositing a large plateful of pancakes, some syrup and his morning coffee in front of him, before giving him a peck on the cheek and walking back to the stove. He could only gape after her, wondering if Death Eaters had come in the night and replaced his daughter with Polyjuice Potion.

"What's the occasion?" He asked, extremely confused as he surveyed the feast fit for Hogwarts on the table before him and touched his cheek where she had kissed him.

"What do you mean?" She said a little too innocently, flipping the last pancake in the pan onto another plate, "You're saying I can't make my favourite man in the whole world breakfast for no reason?"

When she said this, James couldn't help but notice how wide her smile was or how bright her eyes seemed to be, and he was instantly suspicious. "Okay, what have you done to it?" He said, pushing back his chair and pointing at the meal.

"Nothing," was the reply, along with two raised eyebrows, and James snorted.

"Right. I seem to recall that the last time you cooked me breakfast, I ended up completely red for a week."

Now it was her turn to snort. "That was your own fault," she said, sitting down on the chair opposite him with a plate full to bursting with slightly blackened pancakes. He noticed, on closer inspection, that her face, glasses and hair seemed to be covered in a fine layer of flour, as was her shirt.

"You know, I always thought the flour was supposed to go _into _the pancakes, not on the chef," he smirked, and watched as she resisted the apparently overwhelming urge to roll her eyes.

"Oh for Merlin's sake, I haven't done anything to them," she said, taking the yet unused container of syrup in front of him and drowning her pancakes in it. "Do you want to know why I'm doing this?" She asked with more than a hint of a smile on her face.

"Do tell," he said, crossing him arms and leaning back comfortably in his seat.

"Because it's Father's Day today," she said simply.

"What day?"

"Father's Day," she said, with a smug air to her, obviously enjoying knowing something that he didn't. "It' something the Muggles do. They have a special day to honour men who are fathers, and the children have to do special things like give their dads presents and make a special breakfast and stuff like that," she shrugged, shovelling a mouthful of extremely syruping pancake into her mouth.

"Seriously?" James asked incredulously, sitting up straighter in his chair. She nodded, unable to reply through her stuffed mouth. "Wait, I think I've heard of this before. Yeah… Muggles are completely mental." He shook his head, grinning, "But I like this. Okay," he said, pulling his chair closer to the table and picking up his knife and fork. "So what you're saying is, the Muggles invented this thing where kids have to be nice to their dads for a day?"

This time, Jamie didn't even try to resist when she rolled her eyes. "Yes."

He grinned wider, "Brilliant. Mental, but brilliant. So…" he said in an offhand voice, "Any particular reason why you suddenly decided to follow Muggle traditions?"

Jamie made a show of looking exasperated, but James could tell it was just an act.

"Because, I just _wanted_ to."

"I see…" James said, pulling a funny expression to show that he actually didn't, making her giggle. "So, did you get me a present?" He asked, a little too eagerly.

The teenage girl grinned and fished a small wrapped package out of the pocket of her flour-covered jeans. She stood up and leaned over the table and both of their plated, pressing the package into his hands.

"Happy Father's Day, dad," she whispered, giving him another kiss on the cheek, not the small peck he got before, but a big, long, wet one. And in that moment James knew that he had the most amazing daughter in the world.


	12. Orange

_Meh. Not my best, this one. Oh well._

_This totally happened to me the other night. I was all like, "Why the hell is it orange?" and then, "Oh."_

_Also, I suck at making Potions on Pottermore. DDDDDDDx_

…

A late Wednesday night found James Potter in the bathroom of his home, dressed in nothing but a pair of boxers and an old shirt. With eyes threatening to close by themselves, he squeezed a liberal amount of toothpaste onto his brush and then put it to his mouth, tiredness making him miss and hit his cheek instead.

"Nice one," Jamie yawned, and James, looking into the bathroom mirror, saw her entering through the door behind him wearing pyjamas and rubbing her eyes in a desperate bid to keep them open.

"Shut up," was all James could say, due to a mouthful of foamy paste and a toothbrush, as well as the feeling of not being bothered to think up a better reply.

The response was a small groan, as his daughter tried to reach for her own toothbrush, and ended up knocking it, and the cup holding it, to the ground.

"Nice one," he said as she bent down to pick it up, a small dribble of spit and toothpaste spilling onto his chin as he did so.

"What?" Jamie yawned again, stretching her arms and standing back up with the toothbrush clutched in her hand. She looked at him with sleepy, unfocussed eyes.

"Nothing, hun," he replied, and all that was heard for the next several minutes was the swish-like sound of two toothbrushes at work.

Finally about ready to collapse where he stood and spend the night on the floor, James spat and rinsed as quickly as he could in his drowsy state, throwing a handful of water over his face for good measure. The cool liquid helped to wake him up just a bit, and he managed to stagger his way over to the door.

"G'night," he said in Jamie's general direction with a half-wave there as well, and made to leave.

"Ugh, yuck," came the unexpected response.

"What?" James stopped and turned back, every part of his body protesting the movement. He could almost sense his nice, warm bed just metres away, but resisted the temptation. "What is it?"

"My toothpaste is orange!" The teenage girl cried looking suddenly wide awake as she pointed at the frothy concoction spilling over the sides of her mouth. "Look."

And he did, frowning when he saw the faint orange tinge to mixture. "How did that happen?" He frowned, racking his brains. The toothpaste had been white when he had used it. What could have made it go orange? The answer seemed completely obvious in some far off corner of his brain.

"Blood," Jamie stated, as though reading his mind. She looked mildly disgusted. "My gums are bleeding. Must have brushed too hard."

"Oh," James said stupidly, running a hand through his hair. "Right. There's a spell for that, I think."

"Right."

"Well… g'night, again," he said, watching the back of her head as she rinsed out her mouth over the sink.

And it was only when he had collapsed into his bed minutes later that he realised she had not said good night back.


	13. Alive

_Woo, two in less than a day._

_Oh, and I have school holidays for the next two weeks, just so you know. But in the second week I'm going camping. _

_Poor James. Never mind Voldemort, the most dangerous thing in the world is waking up a tired teenager in the morning._

…

The door to Jamie's bedroom opened slowly, creaking all the way and dragging across the floor.

"Jamie?" James called softly, tiptoeing in and making his way over to the lumpy bed containing his motionless teenage daughter. "Time to wake up, honey. Come on," he whispered, shaking her gently on the shoulder.

When she showed absolutely no sign of movement, he shook her little harder, and said rather firmly, "Jamie. Up. Now."

When that didn't work, he tried pulling the sheets back, hoping to elicit some sort of protest, but instead got a great snore.

"Jamie Potter, get up this instant!" He half-yelled, his frustration growing, and was rewarded with faint signs of life. She grumbled some indistinct words and rolled over onto her front, burying her face into the pillow.

Determined not to admit defeat, James pulled out his wand and flicked it towards the light overhead. It burst to life, flooding the darkened room with bright light and making Jamie dig her face further into her pillow.

"Haykay, m'gup," she mumbled, the words muffled through the pillow and the drowsiness in her voice.

"Sorry, what?" James called, pointing his wand at the pillow and making it fly out from under her and start whacking her over the back of her head. "I didn't hear you over the sound of me telling you to _wake up_."

Her response was lost beneath the continual _thump thump_ of the pillow attack. He saw her feebly attempt to swat it away several times, before her hands fell back into a defensive position over the top of her head.

With a swish of his wand, the pillow fell with one last thump to the bed. "Jamie," he said firmly once again, groaning when he saw that she was not moving. "I didn't want to do this, but now it's your own fault that I am," he fingered his wand, pointing it at her unmoving figure, "I'm going to count to three. One… two… three! _Aguamenti!_"

A spurt of water cascaded from the end of his wand, quickly soaking both the bed and its occupant. Jamie shrieked, sitting bolt-upright almost immediately, and glared at him.

"It's alive!" He yelled, both frustrated and amused.

"I said I was getting up! You didn't need to drench me," his daughter said in a high pitched, accusing voice, as she wiped drips of water from her face.

"Well, maybe next time you'll know to wake up the _first_ time I call," he retorted angrily, crossing his arms and ducking when she threw her wet pillow at him.


	14. Smoke

_So, I went camping last week, which was fun. I also went hiking for 6 hours, which was also fun, except when my legs and knees decided to die on me afterwards. xD_

_A few things; first is to check out the poll currently on my profile, but just remember it's only for interest and fun and that the result will in no way effect anything. Second is that I'm back at school nao , so I have school stuff to do as well as writing. And thirdly, I really want to do something with this song_ http:/www(dot)youtube(dot)com/watch?v=7fV6fmBerRg_ for James and Jamie, but you might not see it for a while. Don't you think it sort of fits?_

_Anyway, this is G, signing off. _

…

They were both sitting in the back yard that oddly cool summer night, a dying fire on the ground before them. It was late and everything was still.

James closed his eyes and breathed in the smell of wood-smoke, his sleepy mind lazily wandering to cosy Winter nights in the Gryffindor Common Room and the grand bonfires his father used to build every Summer. He thought of Salamanders and Fire Crabs and Lily's fiery red hair and their first Christmas as a married couple, wrapped in each other's embrace in front of the grate.

_I miss those days,_ he thought drearily and sighed, blaming the smoke when he removed his glasses and wiped tears from his eye.

How he wished he had them back. How he wished he had _her_ back. It had seemed so much simpler back then, before Voldemort had screwed everything up. He'd give anything and everything to have his lovely Lily back in his arms again.

Well, maybe not _one_ thing.

"Dad, are you awake?"

He sat up straighter in his chair (an uncomfortable wooden one pilfered from the dining room table) and looked at his teenage daughter through the smoke. "Are you?" he replied stupidly, his mind foggy and still full of thoughts of his lost wife.

"Yeah," was her reply, and a slight glare caught his eye, from the fire reflected off of her glasses as she moved her head.

"Are you cold? Do you want to go inside?" He asked, his over-protective father sense tingling.

She shook her head, dropping his gaze to stare blankly into the fire, her green eyes seeming to be mesmerised by the glowing embers. Her slumped posture told him how late it actually was, and he knew that whether she liked it or not, they would have to go in to bed soon.

For the next few minutes, he just sat watching her with an unfocused gaze, before his tired mind finally processed the conversation that had just taken place.

"Jamie?" He said.

"Hmm?" She mumbled in reply, looking up at him in surprise as though she had forgotten he was there.

"Why'd you ask I was awake?" He inquired, frowning.

She blinked once, and then twice before a flicker of sudden understanding crossed her features. "Oh. Just checking," she shrugged, and returned to her staring contest with the fire, looking very much like she was about ready to fall asleep then and there.

"Oh."

There was another couple of minutes of silence, in which both father and daughter stared into the death throes of the once vibrant fire. A slight chill was in the air, and he shivered, feeling goose bumps erupt along his arms. He sort of wish Padfoot and Moony were here to keep him awake, like they had back in school.

Back in the good old days. He sighed again.

But it was when James spied a half-burned marshmallow from his and Jamie's marshmallow fight earlier in the evening (which he totally won, no matter what she said), and looked up to point it out to Jamie that it struck him how maybe 'those days' weren't quite over yet.

Sure, things had changed, but not _that _much. He still had his best friends. He still loved to prank. And most importantly, he had a beautiful girl who loved him.

But when before it had been him and Lily, now it was him and his wonderful daughter, Jamie.

"Baby, come here," he said softly, a giant grin on his face, and she looked up at him with sleepy, cautious eyes. "Come on," he repeated, beckoning her with his hand, and it was probably a mark of how sleepy she was that there was no protest and as stumbled to her feet and over to him.

He lifted his arms wide as though to hug her, still sitting in his chair, and she, understanding, crawled into his arms and curled herself up against his body so that she was lying on top of him.

"I love you, honey," he whispered through the smoke- filled air. Yup, these were the days.


	15. Washing

_Hey everyone! It's been a hectic few weeks for me, but I'm still here. Thanks for all your favs and alerts, they're much appreciated. :) _

_Just a notice, I'll be taking my Jamie poll down pretty soon, so head over to my profile to vote if you haven't already._

_School's finished now, so theoretically, I should be able to do more writing. Theoretically. _

…

"Jamie, come get your washing!" James called through the house, a basket full of clean and dry clothes clutched in his hands. With a grunt, he dropped it on the dining room table and stood back to marvel at how heavy the load had seemed to be, even though it had only contained his and Jamie's clothes.

_I can only imagine what it must be like in the Weasley household, _he thought, chuckling merrily to himself.

"Coming!" was his daughter's shouted reply, followed by the loud reverberating thumps that indicated a fast descent down the stairs. James chuckled again and pulled out his wand, waving it over the basket so that the clothes sprung into the air and sorted themselves into bunches, before landing back on the table into two fairly neat piles. Considering household spells weren't exactly his thing, it still surprised him how good he was at them.

Jamie appeared in the doorway, slightly puffed from the journey, and approached the table to snatch her pile up. "Thanks dad!" she said hurriedly, turning to leave without even a glance at him and almost ran the length of the room to the door.

"Whoa, what's the rush?" He called after her, incredulous, and she halted rapidly, turning to face him. A brief guilty look flashed across her face, which immediately spiked James' interest.

"Oh, I-I'm just writing some-some important letters, is all," she stammered, fidgeting with the clothes in her hands and not quite meeting his eyes. He raised his eyebrows in response, and she turned a faint pink colour.

"I see…" he drawled out, watching her squirm under his gaze, "Boyfriend?" he added, almost casually, holding up his wand, (which was still in his hand) so that she could see it.

"No," Jamie replied, her voice strong and a defiant expression on her face, the pink tinge in her cheeks growing more pronounced. "A friend."

"I see," James repeated, giving her a pointed look. She stared right back, not giving him an inch. The staring contest lasted several minutes before Jamie blinked and looked away, leaving James with a victorious smirk on his face.

"Bye, dad," his 14-year-old daughter said sullenly, turning once again to leave. As she did, a piece of washing disentangled itself from the twisted mass that the once neat pile had become and dropped to the floor. She, however, kept moving.

"Oi! You dropped something," he called after her, and strode over to pick the errant clothing, widening his eyes when he saw what it was. She turned back again, an annoyed expression on her face which turned to horror when she saw what he was holding.

With lightening speed, she ran back and snatched it from him, quickly fleeing the room, but not before James caught a glimpse of her face, which was bright red.

He smiled sadly to himself, as he listened to the thumping footsteps of her retreating up the stairs and the bang of her bedroom door closing, the girl no doubt so overcome with embarrassment at her father holding her _pink_ bra that she wasn't going to emerge until dinner. She was growing up much too fast.

He sighed, moving back to the table to pick up his own pile of clothes, all the while thinking of the little green-eyed baby he used to know and legal ways to maim and harm teenaged boys.


	16. Mess

_Merry Christmas everyone~!_

…

A cheerful fire crackled in the grate, making the entire sitting room comfortably warm and snug. James was dozing on one sofa, a report he was _supposed_ to be reading for work lying forgotten on the floor, while Jamie was stretched out on the other, looking happier and more content than he had seen her in the past week.

"Hmmm…" she sighed contentedly, her eyelids half closed and a cup of hot cocoa sitting laxly in her hands. He watched her burrow deeper into her blanket with a tired smile on his face, not really listening to the buzzing of the radio in the background.

They'd spent the last few days in a last-minute rush of sorts, going back and forth between Diagon Alley and Godric's Hollow so many times he'd lost count. Between supplies for lunch and dinner, shopping for presents and some serious decorating, they were both worn out and glad for a chance to laze around and do nothing before the real chaos ensued.

Tomorrow was Christmas day, that wonderful time of year when small children got hyped up on chocolate frogs and went into a present frenzy, and Padfoot always wore some ridiculously coloured Christmas hat.

Jamie had the whole day planned, at the centre of which was a massive Christmas lunch in which it seemed she had invited everyone in the Wizarding World (well, he knew the Weasleys were attending.) She had been in full bossy-mode since she had returned home from Hogwarts not a week ago, giving him orders on where to put certain decorations up, what exactly to buy for food and deciding on presents. He could swear that she was somehow channelling Lily's spirit, as he kept having flashbacks to the first Christmas they had spent together as a married couple.

"Hmmm…" his daughter groaned, pulling herself up into a slumped upwards position, rubbing her eyes and reajusting the blanket so that it was tighter around her. "I better head to bed. It's a big day tomorrow."

"Okay. Good night, pup," he replied with a smile, and she stood to leave, placing the now empty cup of cocoa on the coffee table. When she did, he noticed with a frown something dark smothered across her mouth and the inch around it. "Hey Jame, you have something on your face."

With tired, sluggish arms, she responded by reaching up and wiping her hand across her mouth, taking a second to look at it before licking it away. "Chocolate from the cocoa," she said simply, "Mustn't have been paying attention when I was drinking."

They both chuckled quietly.

"Remember to brush your teeth," James told her as she left the room.

"See you in the morning, dad."


	17. Fat Her

_Little drabble bunny that demanded to be written. _

_I blame the chocolate._

…

"Hey dad?" Jamie said, taking an extra large lick of her ice cream as they sat outside Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour one sunny summer day.

"Yeah, Jame?"

"Did you know that when you break apart the word 'father' it makes the words 'fat her'?"

James could only stare incredulously at the early teen before him over the top of his newspaper. "… sorry, what?" he said, shaking his head slightly to clear it.

"Oh, nothing, just thinking," she replied with a sweet smile, turning away to take another monster lick of her dessert and leaving James to wonder what exactly she must have been thinking to come up with something so completely ridiculous and mad as 'fat her'.

He blamed the sugar.


	18. Panic

_I did this to my mum a few weeks ago. :3 _

…

"Okay," James said in a matter-of-fact tone, consulting the list in his hand, as the magic brick archway back to the Leaky Cauldron slid back into a wall behind him. "So, I need a new quill, you need new robes, and books, and school stuff, etcetera. So we, better get started right away, otherwise we won't have enough time to meet Sirius."

He glanced to his side, expecting to see his teenage daughter standing there, and therefore did a double take when he realised that she wasn't.

Confused, he looked to his other side, and found she wasn't there, either. He glanced up and down the familiar bustling cobbled street, searching for an equally familiar ponytailed head, and found none. Now starting to panic, he took a few steps forward, his eyes trying to rake through the crowds to see if he had somehow missed her. He even stooped to look under a nearby bench, as if his missing child would suddenly appear there.

"Jamie!" he called out, straightening and cupping his hands around his mouth, the panic building inside him now reaching its paramount.

"What?" a voice replied from behind him, and he swung around, coming face to face with the object of his panic. There was an amused and almost pitying smile on her face. "I've been behind you the whole time."

"Why you little-!"

"Love you too, dad," she said, before taking the list from his hands and wandering away, leaving James clutching at his racing heart.


	19. Rain

_Back to school now. D:_

_This one happened yesterday, between me and my mum. We seem to do these sort of things often, don't we? :P_

…

There's only one thing better than taking an evening walk after a solid rain, and that's taking an evening walk after a solid rain _barefoot._

So, that's what James was doing right now. It had been Jamie's idea, of course, as the non-stop shower that had descended over the village for several days had forced them to skulk around their Godric's Hollow home. The both of them had been starting to feel stuffy and cooped up, which was not a good feeling for the usually active father and daughter.

Today, however, the downpour had begun to lessen, turning from a constant rattling on the roof to a light rain, and then finally a misty shower. It had been then that the two had rushed from the house, armed with umbrellas and flip flops, the latter of which were quickly discarded and carried in hand.

They walked through the village, bouncing through puddles and causing wet trees and plants to fling back into each other's faces, showering droplets of water over shirts and faces. A temporary truce had to be called as James placed an Impervious Charm on both of their glasses.

It was only when the sky started to darken again, and the echoing drip drop of water hitting their umbrellas began to increase in tempo that they resigned to the fact that they had to return home. So, energy quite spent, they turned and walked back in the direction they came, several shortcuts making it so that they were soon in range of the house.

On the final leg, Jamie, a small distance on front of James, quite suddenly bent down, placing her disused flip flops on the wet ground and pulled something (a soaked leaf, perhaps, that had stuck on) from the bottom of her foot. This small stop allowed James to overtake her. He walked a short distance before stopping and turning to wait.

When she stood up, the umbrella was placed so that it obscured her face. Then she did something rather odd; she turned around back the way they had come and did a sweep of the street as though expecting to find something. James could almost see her furrowed eyebrow in his mind's eye.

It took a second or two to realise that she was searching for him, about the same time it took for a wide grin to spread across his entire face. With the 14-year-old looking in the other direction, he took his opportunity to sneak up behind her, waiting before he was but a few feet away before saying, in his smuggest and most casual sounding voice, "Did you lose something, Jame?"

Jamie swung around, the flash of surprise on her face quickly turning to anger. "You could have said something!" she said, glaring. "I thought you'd Disapparated on me, or something."

James, however, very used to her fiery looks, was unfazed, and simply sent her his best smug smile, before turning to walk up the street, leaving her scoffing.

He was pretty sure he heard the word 'idiot' being thrown in his direction, although with the rain, he couldn't be quite sure.

…

_Now to go have some breakfast…_


	20. Overprotective

_Yay, 20 chapters! *celebrates*_

...

He saw her vanish from the corner of his eye. One minute she was there, walking and talking with Hermione, ankle-deep in slushy snow outside the house, and then the next both teenage girls had disappeared. In an instant, (for that was all it took) James dropped whatever it was that he had been holding (which happened to be a cup of flour) and rushed outside, leaving his half-made cake and an open door behind him.

In the few seconds it took , his mind raced, and barely-controlled panic forced its way up his throat. He couldn't immediately see her, and his mind automatically snapped to the worst-case scenario.

_What if Death Eaters have taken her? What if she's hurt? What if she'd dead? _At each poisonous thought, breathing became harder and harder. _It's all my fault. Oh Merlin, why wasn't I there to protect her? _

Then, suddenly, he spotted her, and he was so relieved that he stopped dead, cried out and sunk onto his knees.

She was absolutely fine, lying on the ground and soaking wet from the snow with arms and legs tangled together with Hermione's. What was more was that both were _laughing_, and he realised with a painful jolt that they must have just fallen over.

"I'm sorry Jamie, I should have been more careful, " Hermione was saying, wiping tears of mirth from her eyes with a gloved hand

"That's fine, Hermione. A sore and wet bum is nothing," his daughter replied with a giggle, before adding, "Geez, I hope my dad didn't see that. You know how much of an overprotective _drama queen_ he is."

At this, both descended into giggles, with culminated in Jamie putting a handful of snow down the back of Hermione's shirt and the brown bushy-haired witch retaliating.

Having not been noticed yet, James slowly returned to his feet, the knees of his trousers saturated with icy water. With the air of someone who had just suffered an extremely humiliating loss on a battlefield, he slumped his shoulders and made his way back inside, thinking all the way.


	21. Birthday

_Speaking of birthdays, it was mine the other day. :D_

…

The owl gave a welcome hoot as it zoomed through the open window like a small blurry ghost and landed expertly on the kitchen table, ruffling it's feathers. James looked up at it from his usual coffee and cereal with a goofy grin across his face.

"Hello there, Hedwig, my beautiful. Have you got something for me?" he teased.

The snowy owl gave an exasperated hoot, and made a movement which would have resembled a human being rolling it's eyes, before lifting up her scaly leg to show him the thick looking letter attached to it. He quickly untied it, his fingers fumbling with uncontained excitement.

"Thank you, my lovely," he said as Hedwig took off again, swooping to the other side of the room and landing on a perch beside a sleeping Geoffrey, James' personal owl. She made the same exasperated eye movement, before promptly tucking her head underneath her wing and taking a nap, not likely to emerge for several hours.

Abandoning his breakfast for the meantime, James ripped open the envelope to find two things; a letter and a card. He decided to read the letter first.

_Dear Dad,_

_Happy Birthday! So, how does it feel to be 33? Do you feel like an old man? _

_I hope you have a really good day, (even if you __are__ just going to work) and that Sirius doesn't burn your cake again. Just remember to check under all the icing this time to see if it's black underneath, and then have a little taste to make sure, not a giant bite like last time. He did tell me he was going to be extra careful this time, but I __really__ wouldn't put it past him. You know how easily distracted he is._

_School is going fine, nothing new to report, really. Snape is the usual, if a little worse. He's been giving me stranger-than-usual looks since the Weasley Twins did that whole 'Weasley for a day' thing. Homework is getting harder. I reckon Ron would have crashed and burnt by now if he didn't have Hermione and I to help him._

_Oh, and speaking of Ron and Hermione, they send their congratulations as well. As do Fred and George and Ginny, and well… everyone. Uh, you'll see on the card. I'm really sorry, things sort of snowballed. _

_The picture on the front is by Dean Thomas, a boy in my year. He's a pretty amazing artist. _

_I have a History of Magic essay to start now, so I need to get on it._

_Love, Jamie._

Smiling fondly, James picked up the card, which seemed to be made of a stiff parchment and looked at the front of it. He whistled, impressed.

Upon it was a hand-drawn picture of the Gryffindor lion, wearing a party hat and rearing on its hind legs. It was coloured with a striking scarlet and gold ink, and underneath it were the words, 'Happy Birthday' in capital letters. He whistled again, for the hell of it.

Opening it up, he immediately saw what Jamie had meant; the entire surface of the paper was covered in little multi-coloured messaged, each saying things like 'Happy Birthday' and 'Many Happy Returns' and others of the like. He recognised Ron's untidy scrawl, Hermione's cramped but neat print, and Jamie's cursive scribble, but that was all. Some other familiar names jumped out, like the other Weasley siblings, and someone with extremely girly and loopy handwriting named Lavender Brown whom he thought he'd met once, but the others he had no clue.

Mystified, he noticed a message written right at the bottom, squished underneath everything else. It was Jamie's handwriting.

It read:

_Dad- I'm so sorry! Like I said in the letter, things just sort of snowballed. I gave the card to Ron and Hermione to sign, and then Fred and George came along, and asked if they could sign as well. Then Ginny did as well, and then, suddenly, it was being passed around the Common Room, and I couldn't stop it! And I didn't have time to make another one. Sorry, again! –Jamie_

James laughed, suddenly feeling extremely fond of every person who had signed the card, especially his daughter. From this last message, he could tell that she had been really worrying, and that made him beam. She was very good at getting worked up over little things.

Standing up, he moved into the living room and placed the card onto the mantelpiece of the fireplace, gazing at it affectionately. After a few seconds he turned and left again, as the sounds of another owl flying through the open window reached his ears. There was no doubt that this new owl was also carrying birthday wishes, although he was sure that they wouldn't be nearly as good as Jamie's.


	22. Boredom

_Good morning, everyone. :)_

…

"Hey Jame, what's up?" James said, entering her messy bedroom out of complete boredom. He found his daughter sitting at her desk, hair scruffy, a spot of ink on her cheek and completely engrossed in a Summer essay. She didn't even spare him a glance.

"The sky," she replied with a small amused smirk.

James looked up, frowning and contemplating the ceiling. "Well, technically, it would be the roof, wouldn't it? That's what's directly above you." He said after much deliberation.

"What's your point?" Jamie inquired, looking rather determinedly at her parchment although, her quill was now limp in her hand. James swore he saw the corner of her eyes give him an exasperated eye roll.

"Guess I didn't have one," he shrugged, adding, "I'm bored," for good measure.

It was quite an understatement.

"Then go do your reports, don't disturb me," she replied in a frustrated tone, before attempting to return to her parchment.

James contemplated this too. He did not like the result. "Aw, do I _have_ to?" he moaned overdramatically.

Jamie finally turned away from her essay, twisting in her chair to give him her full and undivided attention. There was a stern look in her eye. "Yes, you do. Remember what happened last time you didn't hand in a report?"

James spluttered, insulted, "Geez, that was _one_ time, and yet you're never going to let me live it down."

"Yeah, well, if my boss had set a flock of enchanted woodpeckers after _me_ and told them to peck mercilessly at _my_ back unless I did my work, I wouldn't live it down either. Now, leave me alone."

He scoffed and turned to leave, childishly blowing her a raspberry. He got to the door, then turned around again, a sudden idea hitting him in a light bulb-like fashion.

"Hey Jamie, after we're both done, can we play some Quidditch out back?"

It was Jamie's turn to contemplate, and contemplate she did, chewing on the end of her quill.

"I suppose so…" she finally sighed, and James gave a triumphant arm pump. "But I want to see your report before we do!" she warned with a sharp eye.

"Yes, mum," James said sarcastically, rushing out the door and down the stairs to his study. There was still a fair few hours of daylight left, and the quicker he could get his report done, the more time he could have on his broom.

"And if it's not done properly, I won't play Quidditch with you for a month," he heard his daughter call.


	23. Creature

The creature was crouching low, surveying James with evil dark green eyes as he walked past, it's tail flicking threateningly as sharp claws sunk into the carpet.

"What do you want?" James said in a mocking tone, trying not to let the fear come into his voice. The creature responded by hissing and crouching lower, looking ready to pounce any second. James quickly vacated the room, abandoning whatever he had been doing and glancing over his shoulder as he went. The creature had jumped up and was slinking behind him. That was bad.

His pace quickened as he strode down the hall, trying to keep calm, which was a hard thing to do as the creature had done the same. That was very bad.

He almost flew down the stairs, the creature hot on his heels and gaining. With speed he entered the kitchen, very panicked and actually pulled his wand out of his pocket in a vague attempt to use it for self defence, because he knew, he just knew that the damn thing was going to get him this time.

"JAMIE!" he yelled, his usually manly voice high-pitched, "THAT _THING_ IS DOING IT AGAIN!"

"Geez, dad, I'm right here, you don't have to shout."

James jumped, spinning to find Jamie standing in the doorway, the creature sitting comfortably in her arms. He quickly pointed his wand at its taunting face.

"I'm telling you, it's evil, it just tried to kill me!" he cried, looking slightly deranged, his glasses lopsided and naturally messy hair on end.

His daughter sighed, rolling her eyes. "_He_ has a name, dad. It's 'Hero', and would you _please_ stop picking on him? What's he ever done to you?" There was an extremely protective look in her eye, one that he knew quite well.

He took a long, hard look at the greying black and white cat staring smugly at him from between Jamie's arms. Ever since Lily had found the little devil, over 15 years ago now, it had been the bane of his existence. And not just for him; it also took every opportunity to terrorise Sirius as well, although considering Sirius' Animagus form, it wasn't as surprising.

But for some strange reason, the damn thing absolutely adored Jamie, and Jamie adored it back. He'd never really understood the whole thing, but he guessed that as long as it made her happy, he couldn't complain.

He lowered his wand somewhat regretfully, placed it on the kitchen table, and held his hands up in surrender so that the cat would see. "Okay, I give up," he sighed.

"Good," the teenage girl said shortly, after giving him a scrutinising look. She then swiftly turned with a swish of her ponytail and left the room, taking Hero with her. He waited until the sound of her door closing had echoed through the house before speaking.

"For now, anyway," he muttered.

…

_Introducing Hero, the cat with good yet mysterious intentions. As you can tell, James isn't too fond of him. Check out my new drabble._


	24. Tiny

She was so tiny and fragile. If James hadn't been so determined not to move her in any way for fear of breaking her little body, he could have easily held her in one hand. She was finally here, and she was beautiful. His black hair sat softly upon her oddly shaped head, and behind her closed little eyelids he knew were Lily's beautiful green irises.

All he could do was stare in amazement, his arms frozen and eyes wide at the baby that had stolen his heart in mere seconds. She was so tiny and fragile, and James swore at that moment that he would always be there to protect her.

How wrong he was.


	25. Sick

James felt horrible. His nose was clogged, and with each breath he thought he would choke. With an awful whooping cough, he rolled over in his bed to glance at the clock on his bedside table. After a few seconds of staring uncomprehendingly at it, he lurched bolt upright. 6:30 am; he was late.

"Bugger!" he cried, as he attempted to extract himself from the tight constraints of his sheets, and failed miserably. His throat felt scratchy and swollen and mucus was dripping in earnest from his nose by the time he accepted defeat and laid back on his pillow. It looked as though the Auror office would have to make do without him for a day or so.

"Jamie?" he called out as he grabbed his wand from beside his clock and conjured some tissues. There was at least a minute of loud blowing before the call was repeated.

With a small click, his bedroom door was suddenly opened, and in came his daughter, still in her pyjamas and her back to him. A heavily laden tray was in her hands, and the bright light from the hall filed in with her."Oh good, you're finally awake," she said, bustling around the side of his bed to place the tray on the bedside table.

"My alarm didn't go off," James complained through his clogged nose, as he tried to scratch at his itchy eyes. Jamie gave him a sympathetic look as she placed a cup of tea in his hands.

"Well of course it didn't, silly," she replied with a small laugh, "I turned it off. There's no way you're going to work with a cold this bad, and you need your sleep. I was up half the night listening to your coughing. You sounded like you were dying, or something, but I couldn't wake you up."

James began to protest, but thought better of it when he was overcome with a fit of retching coughs, "I see your point," he managed to choke out, before taking a few sips of tea. The familiar taste soothed his throat.

"Don't worry, I'll take care of you," Jamie said with one of her bright, contagious smiles. She took back the half-drunk teacup and replaced it with a small vial of red potion. "Pepper up," she stated simply, and James quickly ripped off the cork stopper and swallowed the concoction whole. It burnt all the way down, and soon there was steam protruding from his ears.

"I owled the office and told them you're not coming in today, so that's all sorted. Your breakfast is here," she motioned to the tray, "And if you need anything else, just yell. I'll be downstairs."

She turned to leave, after placing a soft kiss on his burning forehead and whispering, "Get well soon, dad," in his ear

James stared admiringly after her, steam still pouring from his ears. How could he live without her?


	26. Flowers

_This one is sort of different from the others. It's darker, set later in my timeline of events for Jamie than most of the others. I've purposefully kept things vague. Enjoy!_

…

"Jamie, hurry up!" James yelled, hammering on the door to the only bathroom in the small house. Behind it, he heard the unmistakable keening scream of hot water running from a shower head and splashing down onto the tiled cubicle floor.

There was a watery scuffle, before a muffled answer of, "Just a few more minutes!"

James groaned in frustration, before hitting the door once again. "You said that ten minutes ago!" he shouted back. "Come on, I'm all sweaty from work!"

"Just wait, would you?" the 15-year-old yelled in return, sounding extremely annoyed and even angry.

"Fine," he spat, settling himself darkly against the floral wallpaper of the opposite wall and rueing the day he'd stupidly decided he was fit for parenthood. He was obviously rubbish at it. Why had he yelled at her? In his experience, yelling never helped anyone. It was probably just built up frustration; things hadn't been to good recently, and Jamie acting like she was a completely different person didn't help. He knew it was partly his fault; he hadn't been there her when it had mattered most, and he hated himself for it.

As a distraction from the anger that currently welled up inside him, he took a sudden interest in the flowery wallpaper; he had chosen it when they'd first moved in, although he'd never, ever tell Sirius that. The old one had been a horrible yellowy green that had had reminded him of vomit, and had been soon replaced with the this pale blue one that was decorated with white flowers; buttercups, carnations, daisies and, most importantly, _lilies_.

_Lily would know what to do, _he though dejectedly, sagging against the paper, his head in his hands. Lily would know exactly how to be a parent to Jamie. If Lily had been there, she would have had everything sorted, and they could all go back to being a happy family. But Lily wasn't there.

There was a whistling sound as the water cut off. James took several minutes to compose himself, a scathing remark about lateness and wasting water on the tip of his tongue. The door quickly opened with a crashing snap, and a glaring Jamie wrapped in a bathrobe and with sopping wet hair emerged.

"There you go," she snapped venomously, turning with a swish of her now short black hair and pounding down the hall to her room. Droplets of water hit James' face from this movement. He opened his mouth, sneering to reply, by which time she had reached her room. With as much animosity as she could muster, she turned again, fixed her high-beam glower upon him, and said, "And for your information, I was washing my hair!" Then the door slammed, and James once again sagged back on the wall, tears in his eyes.

He forgot all about his shower after this; eyes red, he wandered downstairs and out the door, not once looking. A long walk followed, in which he thought mostly about white flowers, especially lilies.


	27. Faces

_Interested in Fem!Harry or other HP Genderbending? Check out my new Forum: 'Harry Potter and the Genderbending Forum'. Everyone is welcome!_

_*shameless advertising*_

_I regret nothing!_

…

His baby is giggling. It's like a sweet music to his ears; she sits upon his stomach as he lays upon the couch, her little fingers trying to snatch away his glasses for herself. He pokes his tongue out at her, and she giggles more. She pokes her little tongue at him, and it's his turn to giggle. She bounces up and down when he does.

He makes another face, showing her his teeth like he's a vampire. He hisses, and she squeals, waving her tiny arms around in excitement. She tries to mimic him, but her small teeth are more cute than scary. He laughs, and she bounces again.

Now he makes another face; sucking his cheeks in until his lips resemble a fish's. She tries to grab at them, pinching his cheeks together. He gurgles at her, moving his chin and lips up and down, making a funny noise that he knows she'll find hilarious. She does.

Then she leans forward, bringing her face level with his. She pokes her tongue out again, and her short hair tickles his nose. He pokes his tongue back at her, and holds up his hands to support her, lest she fall. Then she holds his face in her hands and brings her lips to his, like he does to her every night before bed time. One very short and wet kiss later, and he is crying.

He's crying because, outside the window there's a war going on. He's crying because one day he knows his baby will have to fight in it. He's crying because all he wants is to stay here, in this moment forever, making faces.

He's crying because one day he knows she'll stop giggling, and then his music will be gone.


	28. Kids

Plotting. That was the word for it. Scheming did fit as well, though the choice of words hardly mattered. All that did was the look of fierce and almost cruel concentration upon the three teenagers before him that should not have been there and looked out of place on their young faces.

Silently, he observed the trio; the fiercely loyal and freckled red head, the determined, bushy-haired brainiac and their small, dark and serious leader. There wasn't even shadow of a smile on any of their faces; nothing but grim and set determination. Nothing could sway them away from whatever it was they were planning through whispered conversations behind hands and charmed doors. He'd lost count of how many times he'd tried to distract them from it, but his efforts were completely in vain. He was defeated.

The leader glanced up and saw him leaning against the doorframe, and suddenly his dead wife's green eyes were staring into his own hazel ones. His daughter's mouth gave him a quick half-grin, before both eyes and mouth returned to their previous positions of complete concentration. He returned the grin, too late, and half-heartedly. There was an awkward few seconds, before, saying nothing, he turned and left the room entirely, brooding.

_They're supposed to be kids,_ he thought, sombrely, taking refuge, as he sometimes did, on the third step from the bottom of the staircase. He buried his head in his hands.

_They're supposed to be kids! Kids, not soldiers._

...

_Depressing, I know, but nothing is perfect._

_Remember to head over to my new Forum! Everyone one is welcome! Just search for 'Harry Potter and the Genderbending Forum' and introduce yourself in the intro thread!_


	29. Hide

_Go on. You know you want to. The link is in my profile- just head on over to my forum like you **know** you want to. :3_

_Oh, and prepare for fluffiness! _

...

One would think that after being locked in a house for months on end that James Potter, Marauder, prankster extraordinaire and general ball of unrestrained energy would have long gone mad with boredom. Of course, while one would have been correct in this assumption under normal circumstances, surprisingly James had found plenty of things to keep him occupied, some better than others. He'd never admit it, but playing hide-and-seek had become one of his favourite pastimes.

"Jamie! Jamie, where are you, bubba!" Lily called from somewhere else in the house. In his position behind the curtains and standing in the semi-darkness, James closed his eyes, silently cursing his wife for cheating, while simultaneously clamping one of his large hands over the small mouth of the eight month old clutched in his arms.

Unfortunately for him, Jamie fell right into Lily's trap. The baby squealed, calling out to her mum, and though the sound was greatly muffled against his hand, it wasn't enough. All too soon he heard the unmistakable sounds of his wife's stomping feet down the staircase. The baby must have heard it too, for she suddenly started nibbling on his fingers and bouncing up and down, kicking her little legs out in excitement. He definitely wasn't the only ball of unrestrained energy in the house.

James tensed slightly as he heard Lily enter the sitting room, the soft footfalls on carpet and the rustling of various objects moving around as she searched making his heart race. For her part, Jamie was suddenly unnaturally quiet, perhaps feeling her daddy's tension. Instead, she put all her extra energy into slobbering over his hand.

"Baby? Bubba? Where are you, honey?" Lily coaxed from the other side of the curtain, passing quite close by James and Jamie. The baby girl's excitement returned as she started to bounce once more and James had to clamp tighter over her mouth to stop her from squealing again. He soon found that this was the wrong choice, as he suddenly discovered just what her lovely new teeth could do.

"Gotcha!" Lily yelled, as she ripped back the curtains. The sudden brightness only added to James' pain as he screwed up his eyes in a manly attempt to stop the wetness in them from overflowing onto his cheeks.

"Oh, son of a-"

"James Charlus Potter, I hope you weren't intending to finish that sentence," he heard his wife reprimand threateningly, and he opened his eyes to find her with her standing in front of him with her hands on her hips and a familiar expression on her face. James whimpered, partly at her tone and partly at the pain in his hand.

"Magagabama!" Jamie squealed incomprehensively, her mouth finally free. Lily's stern face turned to her brightest smile as she took the baby from his arms.

"Yes, I found you, my darling! Yes I did! Now, what did you do to make daddy cry this time?"

"She bit me!" James protested, nursing his hand in his other hand to stop the pain. He could just make out tiny teeth imprints in the skin. "She's a little vampire, I swear, Lil!" he cried overdramatically.

Lily looked nothing short of amused. "You cry baby," she teased. "It's just a little bite, you won't die from it. Come on, Jamie. It's daddy's turn to count. Let's go find somewhere to hide!"

"But-but!" James stuttered. He really shouldn't have been surprised at the lack of sympathy.

Jamie merely squealed again, babbling along in her own baby language while permeating every syllable with an energetic bounce on her mother's hip. Through still watery eyes, James watched them leave the room, neither of them giving so much as a glance back in his direction. He whimpered again, clutching his hand tighter.


	30. Book

_I'm bogged down with school assessment right now. Only two weeks to go until I'm free!_

_Also, 30 chapters! *celebrates*_

…

_Two o'clock in the morning is a _really_ bad time to be busting for the toilet,_ James decided as, head fuzzy, movements sluggish and eyes half closed he stumbled though the hall to the bathroom. With immeasurable relief, he emerged several minutes onto the darkened landing and stretched his arms out, yawning and dragging his hands through his tussled hair. As if on automatic, his feet began to gravitate back towards his nice, warm bed.

However, before he'd even take three steps he stopped again, and instead stared blankly at the door that led to Jamie's room, his mind taking a few seconds to catch up. A sliver of light, dim, yet definite, could be seen in the crack between the door and the floor.

Deciding to investigate (against the will of his sleepy mind) James entered the bedroom as quickly and as quietly as he could, as Sirius, ever the light sleeper, was snoring from the next room. The scene he came upon made a smile appear on his face; Jamie, clad in owl-patterned pyjamas, drooling with her head upon the open pages of a book in her bed, the light on her bedside table still alight.

James shook his head at his daughter's bookish ways, repressing a good natured chuckle, and approached the bed. The first thing he did was gently peel the book out from underneath Jamie's head, and mark the page with a bookmark he found on the bedside table. Next, he softly pulled the bed sheets up around her so that she was completely covered, before pausing for a second or two to whisper a quick _good night_ (knowing that she probably couldn't even hear him) ruffle her puffy hair and plant a short but tender kiss on her forehead. "I love you, sweetie," he whispered.

The light went off with a click, and James stumbled out of the room. A few seconds after there was a shuffling movement, and a pair of sleepy green eyes glinted through the dark.

"I love you too," Jamie murmured, turning over and immediately dropping back to sleep.


	31. Name

_Come and talk to me at my forum. Siriusly. Guise. I'm chillin' there on my own at the moment._

…

"Dad, you know you and I basically have the same name, right?" Jamie drawled out, as she stretched like a cat on the sofa, her head hanging upside-down off the end that was closest to the table and her feet dancing in beat with the quiet background music of the radio at the other end. The fire in the sitting-room's fireplace was blazing merrily in the grate, making the room comfortably warm.

James spared only a quick glance up from his parchment at his daughter, trying his best to ignore the almost accusatory tone of the statement. With a sharply stifled sigh, he noted the bored expression on the girl's face, and the questioning slant of her eyebrows, which indicated to him that she expected a response. Even when she was upside-down, he could read her like a book.

"Yeah, I did notice, actually," he replied off-handedly, narrowing his eyes and putting more effort into concentrating on the quill in his hands. As much as he despised paperwork, it did actually need to be done, even though at that moment he felt more like slumping off to bed than finishing an important report. Jamie wasn't helping at all.

"Well _obviously_. You were the one who named me, weren't you? I mean, I can't see mum coming up with a name so similar to yours," the girl chattered away, an upside-down smile now in place, and James felt his concentration slipping even further. "James and Jamie. Seriously, how _big_ was your ego back then? Naming your _daughter_ after yourself. What did you do to mum to get her to agree to it?" Though the words seemed scathing, there was a teasing undertone to them and a glint of a challenge in her eyes that he'd seen often. It was quite funny sometimes, what boredom could do to people (he should know), but at that moment, James was too tired to do much of anything, much less play one of her games.

"If you must know, it was a joke. I… didn't think your mother would _actually _agree to it," he replied, removing his glasses and pressing the palms of his hand to his eyes, relishing the darkness it brought. He hoped that this would be enough to silence her, but was sadly mistaken.

"A joke? Oh, geez, thanks," he heard her say sarcastically, the beginnings of a giggle rising in her throat. "I mean _come _on, what sort of a big-headed pig were you to-"

"Jamie," he growled warningly, trying to convey with the one word how 'not in the mood' he was at that moment. This time, James let the sigh slip past (a sigh which sounded suspiciously like a groan), as he began kneading his forehead with his hands. He was getting too old for this.

Jamie had fallen silent. Several minutes trickled by, in which James began to wonder if she had silently left the room, but he soon heard the shifting of springs on the sofa, and the soft pattering of bare feet that proved otherwise. He removed his hands and quickly donned his glasses to see her standing awkwardly a couple of feet away, facing towards the door.

"Sorry, I was being silly. I-I'll just go to my room now, and let you finish your report," she said coldly, her face serious. All he could do was stare at it; just minutes ago, her face had been the epitome of childishness and now it looked older than his own. That wasn't right at all. He was suddenly flooded with conflicting emotions, mostly guilt at his stupid selfishness.

"No- don't, I should be the one apologising," he sighed, pushing his chair back and making to stand up.

"No, it's fine." Jamie's voice sounded too casual and emotionless for his liking.

"No, it _isn't_!" With a sudden fury fuelled by tiredness and frustration, James slammed his right hand down onto the table, regretting it in an instant. Jamie barely flinched, her eyes soon glazing over and her face becoming closed off from emotions.

It had started again. The awkwardness, that should most definitely _not_ have been between them, considering how close they were, but had hung resolutely over them like a dark cloud for far too long. Each and every time it occurred, it always seemed like the gap between them was growing wider, until, it seemed, there was an entire valley between them, instead of a table.

It was in these moments that they acted not like father and daughter, but like distant strangers who had no business with each other. He supposed it had something to do with him abandoning her for nine years of her life, but he'd learnt long ago that things were always more dark and complicated than they needed to be. It was in these lonely moments he knew he missed Lily the most, the feeling intensified by the fact that Jamie had her eyes.

He stared into them, into Lily's- _Jamie's _eyes- and for the longest time they were all he saw. The report lay forgotten, the radio droned on unheard, and the fire crackled away, casting shadows as it sank lower. By the time James found the strength to look away, it felt like hours had passed. Jamie stood blinking in surprise for a minute or two, before turning and leaving the room, while James pushed away his parchment and inkpot and slumped himself on the tabletop. He didn't speak for a long time after that, as he tried to convince himself that the bright wetness he had seen in Jamie's eyes as she rushed from the room had been a trick of the light.

…

_Started out fluffy but turned angsty. Sorry. There was soooo many ways I could have ended this one, both happy and sad, but… yeah. _

_School holidays now. Expect more stuff from me._


	32. Bet

_So. Much. Fluff! :D_

_Be sure to check out my new fics, I've been extremely productive as of late. Pretty please? *puppy dog eyes*_

…

"I bet I can get a sweet tasting one," James said, entering the sitting room and approaching the couch, waving a pack of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans in front of Jamie's nose from behind it.

"I bet I can get a really disgusting one, then," she retorted with a smug smile. He snorted, walking around and settling down on the couch next to her.

"Nice try, smart-arse," he reprimanded, tearing open the pack with a practised hand. "That's not fair. You know very well that the ratio of nice to disgusting with these things is about one to ten."

"With that reasoning, what makes you think you'll get a sweet one?" she answered logically, raising her eyebrows. James gave her his cheekiest grin.

"I'm just _so_ great," he replied with a long suffering sigh as though this were the most obvious thing in the world.

Jamie rolled her eyes and poked out her tongue at him in response, yet still closed the book in her hands and leaned forward in anticipation.

"Three sickles."

"Done."

They shook hands in a curt, business-like manner. From both their pockets the necessary silver was then pulled out and deposited onto the coffee table, as was the custom.

With a flash of a grin, James proceeded to delve his hand into the pack, rustling past the various beans to clench his fingers around a random one. He pulled it out and inspected it closely, noting the light shade of white and the yellow-brown splotches. Under Jamie's watchful gaze, he popped it into his mouth and chewed…

…and immediately began spluttering, spitting it out as quick as he could, wiping at the insides of his mouth with his sleeve to remove the foul taste. His entire face was contorted into a grimace.

"Eugh! Rotten eggs," he cringed, shivering in disgust. He turned to his daughter to find a pitying yet smug look on her face.

"I win," she stated, and James scowled, watching as she victoriously scooped up the winnings.

"Okay, your turn then," he announced, watching enviously as the silver disappeared into her pocket. "You said you could get a yuck one, so get a yuck one."

Jamie could not stop herself from rolling her eyes and looking at him like he was an idiot. "What were you saying before about one to ten?"

"So? This could be the one."

She eyed him and seemed to be weighing her options. Soon enough, the silver had re-emerged and three of the little coins were replaced upon the table, three more of James' quickly joining them.

James held out the packet and her small hand disappeared within it, reappearing with a light green prize trapped within it's grasp. Keeping a determined eye contact, Jamie slipped the bean into her mouth, and immediately a look of defeat overcame her features. This reaction was all he needed.

"Yes!" James cried, fist pumping in victory and standing up to dance a little jig. "I told you!"

"Apple," Jamie mumbled, the words sounding bitter. "So much for the odds."

With a hearty laugh, James collected the coins as he sank back down, making a show of stashing them away.

"Best of three!" Jamie suddenly cried, after several seconds of desperate tongue-biting deliberation, "And let's make the stakes higher. All the money we have on our person, plus dessert privileges for the rest of the week."

James carefully considered this, noting the fire in her eyes. "I don't know…" he teased, although he was already eagerly beginning to raid his various pockets for stray coins. Jamie rightfully took this as acceptance, and with an evil smile began her own search.

Pretty soon a small pile had built itself up upon the coffee table, consisting of 12 sickles, 5 knuts, a half-pack of Drooble's, a small Muggle coin of questionable origin and finally one shiny gold galleon, which James had forgotten he had and somewhat regretfully tossed in at the last minute. A small piece of parchment labelled 'Dessert Privileges' with both of their signatures upon it soon joined the heap.

"Here's the deal," James said seriously, leaning forward with the sleeves of his shirt rolled up, the packet of Beans within his hand. "We both take one, and whomever gets the least disgusting one takes the pool. No cheating, and we both eat them together. Agreed?"

"Agreed," Jamie answered, already reaching for the pack, a competitive glint in her eyes. She took one, and then James followed, the beans chinking together when the packet was then placed back on the table next to the pile of money.

"On three," Jamie said, and they both held up their beans, a tension-riddled excitement in the air between them. "One, two… three!"

As one, the small candies were shoved into their respective mouths, and as one both father and daughter gagged on them, clutching at their throats, eyes widened and tears pooling at the corners of their eyes. James managed to gulp his down after a fair amount of rasping, but Jamie was less lucky; with her head between her knees, she retched it out. There was a minute of gasping breaths that followed, and then silence. They both sat, stock still, staring at the opposite wall.

"What did you get?"

"I don't know, but it tasted quite a lot like something that had been festering for a long while. You?"

"Something ungodly that I never want to taste in my mouth again. And in all my years of eating these things, that it saying something."

"Well," Jamie finally said after a long, awkward pause, "I vote we never speak of this again."

"Agreed," James responded hastily. It was then he caught sight of the betting pool again, a bright idea popping into his head. "I also vote that we split the money and the gum, and go out and buy some chocolate frogs and as much Butterbeer as we can to wash the taste out of our mouths."

Jamie gave a relieved chuckle, visibly relaxing with a genuine smile. "Best idea I've heard all day. Agreed."

They shook hands again, faces still slightly grimaced sourly.

…

_This stemmed from me opening my own pack of Bertie's Beans. The rotten egg one is truly disgusting. *cringes*_


	33. Vacant

The ornately framed photograph sat oddly still in Jamie's small, pale hands. To him, it seemed as though his daughter was frozen in time; face staring blankly, eyes barely blinking, not even a slight quiver in her face to indicate life behind those vivid green irises, no sparkle of laughter as there often was. She was vacant, a shell, a house with no residents, and it killed him to know that it was his fault.

He knew exactly where Jamie had gone, though; he knew she was off somewhere else, deep inside her the protection of her mind, somewhere very far away from the cold, little sitting room in Godric's Hollow where her body resided. It was a heart-achingly familiar scene; like her, James studied pictures the one she had for hours on end, memorising every single seemingly insignificant detail and cataloguing it, storing it away because he couldn't _bear_ to forget. The bright red flame of _her_ hair, the softness of her eyes, the memory of her gentle touch…

However, he also knew from experience how poisonous and bitter this position had made him not too long ago. He remember too well how angry and resentful he had become in the weeks and months, even years after _she_ had died. If it hadn't have been for Sirius' help and guidance, James was certain he would never have come out of the dank, dark hole he'd dug for himself.

He knew, that like Sirius had done for him during his darker days, Jamie too would need someone to help her come back out of her mind and to the land of the living, and right now, he was the best she had.

"Jamie?" he asked softly, placing a warm, comforting hand onto her shoulder and giving her a slight shake. "I'm sorry about what I said earlier. Come on, honey, you need to eat. _Please_." He leaned over and prised the photograph from her limp, unprotesting fingers.

Like she was gradually climbing out of a deep, dark hole, Jamie came back, slowly and in a haze of tiredness, looking older than a hundred years as emotion slowly trickled back onto her face. She gave several long, deliberate blinks, staring at the place where the frame had been seconds earlier. Then she turned towards him, and opened her mouth as though to speak, but instead, all that came out was a great shuddering, shaky breath. James had his arms around her in an instant, falling to his knees to encompass her slight frame over the arm of the chair.

"It's not your fault," he whispered into her hair,"I've never blamed you- don't you _ever_ think that _any_ part of it was your fault." She didn't cry like he expected, rather leaned limply upon him, barely moving sans for shaking as the night had gone cold, and she had yet to put on a coat. James, however, cried enough for both of them, for behind her back he still had the picture frame clutched in his hands, and from behind the glass a beautiful woman with flame-red hair and soft green eyes waved happily up at him, a dark-haired baby giggling in her arms.

...

_Originally written for Mother's Day, but wasn't done in time. Now I've made myself all melancholy. :(_


	34. Year

"Fifty-two weeks to the day," James called out dramatically as he entered the room and Jamie rolled her eyes from above the newspaper. A plate of jam toast sat before her upon the table, along with a cup of tea.

"A _year_, dad. It's easier just to say a year."

"Less awesome, though!" the Marauder cried, snatching up one of the pieces, to which she gave a defiant "Hey!" and he replied by sending a cheeky wink her way, and twirling around out of the way as she jumped to her feet and lunged after him.

Both their faces are covered with jam by the end of it.

…

_Yes, it has now been over a year since I first posted 'Mad' (exactly 53 weeks, actually!)and I can't believe it! Thank you to everyone, for 54 reviews, 116 favourites, 108 follows and 61,450 views! It's more than I ever thought would happen, and I hope you guys have enjoyed this as much as I have!_

_As such, I've come up with a little pressie for you all, the details of which I will put in my next chapter, whenever I happen to publish it. Thanks again!_


	35. Celebration

_**Please read!**_

_So, in honour of one year yesterday since my original post, I'd like to do something that I haven't done before, and that is to open requests for prompts. Do you have an idea for a chapter? A cute, plausible little scene that could occur between James and Jamie at some point in their lives? Happy, sad, angsty, etc. __**send me a**__**PM**__(don't clog up the reviews!) and if there's enough I'll choose the top three (sorry, don't have time for more!) I like and write them up. One request, though, I don't want an onslaught of 'James meets boyfriend' requests because, frankly, I'm not that kind of girl and neither is Jamie._

_Enjoy, and thank you for a year's worth of support! Especially you, BaltaineShadow! :)_

…

The party had reached a crescendo by the time James returned from the kitchen with a tray-full of Butterbeer floating in front of him and a bowl of chocolate frogs in hand. The sitting room-magically turned-party room reverberated with a particularly fast tune by the Weird Sisters, and nearly everyone was up and dancing, swaying and jumping to the beat. He spied Hermione (who had been reluctant when he'd left) dancing jerkily with Ginny, the two giggling at a red-faced Ron Weasley who sat stubbornly in an armchair at the edge, arms crossed and clearly refusing to join them. Meanwhile, Sirius, ever the fool, was taking up a fair bit of space in the middle of the room, swinging his arms about wildly and clearing a hole through the small crowd (James could only shake his head in amusement at this.)Even Arthur and Molly had joined in with a fast-paced variant of a waltz, which was mortifying all of their children, judging from the looks the various redheads scattered around the room were appraising the couple with.

He searched, and quickly found Jamie, almost bent double and pink in the face from giggling, dancing between the two Twins, who both easily dwarfed her and were making extremely erratic movements with their legs that James doubted was even a remote form of dancing. His daughter was attempting to copy them, but was having distinct trouble keeping straight enough to kick her legs out. He laughed at this, especially seeing as it was taking a Twin on each arm to keep her balanced on the ground.

Jamie looked up and caught his eye, flashing him a toothy grin, crooked. She called out, "Dad! Come here," with a beckoning hand, and James found himself being magnetically pulled towards her, weaving through the throng. Close up, the two Weasley boys were wearing scarily identical grins. "Fred and George were just teaching me this cool dance. It's called the 'Drunk Unicorn' and it's pretty awesome!" Jamie jabbered off excitedly.

She then repeated the same erratic leg movement for him to see. It seemed like a cross between a can-can and a jump-kick, and it made him smile wider. He felt slightly giddy at her happiness. "What, like this?" he said, kicking his legs out in a similar fashion, and all three teenagers stopped and looked scandalised, Jamie especially.

"What?" he asked, concerned at their sudden silence. "Did I do it wrong or something?"

"Well sir-" One twin said with an awkward smile.

"-let's just say-"

"-you certainly do look-"

"-like a drunk unicorn."

Then they both burst out laughing.

"God, I don't know whether to be mortified or laugh harder," Jamie added, "That looked _completely_ ridiculous, dad, don't try it again." Then she started laughing as well.

James scowled at the three of them, but his scathing reply was interrupted when Sirius burst his way into the conversation. "What's this dance you're doing called?" he asked in his loud, party voice, a Marauder's smile on his face. "Anything that makes James look that absurd is something I want in on."

Everyone laughed harder and James scowled deeper, crossing his arms. "None of your business, Padfoot," he snapped and felt himself turn a light red.

"Relax, dad," Jamie said, wiping tears from her eyes as she sidled up to him. "Come on, come dance with me!" She slipped her small hand into his large one, and he couldn't help the smile that spread over his face as she pulled him away. "Just… don't try to do that dance again. As in, ever."


	36. Beautiful

_This was requested by cookyc, who wanted James trying to talk Jamie into a dress. Thank you for your suggestion, though I think it turned out a little more angsty that you requested. Whoops. _

_Just a reminder that if anyone else would like to put in a request, my inbox is open, and so am I. :)_

…

"Jamie, are you ready yet? Come one, we're going to be late," James called sternly, knocking on the polished wooden door to Jamie's bedroom, before fidgeting with the annoyingly uncomfortable cuffs of his expensive dress robes as he waited for a response.

"No! I told you already, I'm not going!" came the vehement and childish reply, and the Auror needed to take a large, calming breath to stop himself from banging his head against the wood. He instead settled for gritting his teeth together as he clicked open the door and entered, frustration coming through in the form of a heated sigh at what he saw.

Jamie had sat herself in the desk chair, her thin legs pulled up and folded away beneath her like a cat, and a burning glare (that was directed at him) in place. To his mounting irritation, she was still rebelliously clothed in her day clothes (shirt and baggy jeans) with un-brushed, ratty hair and socked feet, whilst her arms were resolutely folded across her torso in the universal gesture of crossness. "I'm not going, and that's final!" she hissed in a low, venomous voice, as she shifted her burning gaze from him to the bed, and what was upon it.

James (swallowing down a biting retort) crossed to the mattress, and picked up the object of her offence, a set of dazzling red dress robes that had been laid out delicately upon the sheets. He held them out before him, offering them to her half-heartedly, but the teenage girl made no move to take them.

"Please, darling, you just have to wear them for a few hours. Just a couple of hours, and then we'll come straight home, I promise," he pleaded, running the soft material through his fingers. The fabric was a deep, royal red and was embroidered with patterns of swirling gold thread and tiny golden beads. He set it back upon the bed with care, and made the mistake of glancing at his watch, the little hands making him groan lightly, and he had to stop himself from running a frustrated hand through his carefully tamed hair.

_Late as usual, Potter, _he could already hear his boss say.

Jamie snorted. "Right."

"_Please_, darling," he said, not too far off from falling to his knees and begging. "I know Ministry dinners like this aren't your thing, but this is important. Fudge asked for you personally, and while normally I don't give a _damn_ what that man wants, Scrimgeour is expecting us to come, and I can't refuse him, he's my boss. This is important, Jame, please." He briefly looked down at the dress robes upon the bedspread, then back up at his daughter, who was appraising him with narrow green eyes and giving the robes a dirty look. "And you know if it's the robes you're worried about, then you don't have to wear them. You still have those green ones, don't you? Or we can drop by Madam Malkin's on the way and quickly pick something else up-"

"It's not the _freaking _robes, dad!" Jamie cried out, springing from the chair in a bout of apparently pent-up frustration. "Well, it sort of is, but- well, it's about the _whole stupid thing_! Do you _really_ think I want to spend my night talking to Ministry officials who'll do nothing but _gawk_ stupidly at my scar and tell me how much I look like mum or you? Do you really think I want to be put on display like that, like some exhibit at a zoo in some pretty dress, and be expected to smile and laugh along with everyone else? I can't do that, dad, I'm sorry, but I can't!"

There was a few seconds of heavy silence, in which James' chest felt tight and his throat hard, while something seemed to glimmer in Jamie's eyes; unshed tears. Feeling, as usual, like a horrible father, he walked slowly towards her, and wrapped his arms around her slim body, not caring that he was messing up his robes in the slightest. She didn't sob onto his shoulder like he expected, but merely hugged neutrally back, chest rising and falling a little harder than usual against his own.

"Plus," Jamie finally said thickly against his shoulder, voice soft in comparison to the hardness it had taken on during her outburst, "Those robes look ridiculous, and there is no way I'm wearing those high heels anywhere." Then she gave a small laugh, and all the tension seemed to escape from her small shoulders.

"If by 'ridiculous' you mean 'beautiful', then yes, I agree completely," James replied with a soft laugh of his own, drawing back away to look at her. Jamie looked faintly surprised at the statement, and a tiny smile appeared. The water in her eyes had vanished, leaving no trace that they had ever been there in the first place.

"Beautiful? Are you sure we're talking about the same robes?"

"Not the robes. You, silly," he said, placing a hand on either side of her face and pulling her in so he could kiss her forehead, right on the bumpiness of her lightning bolt scar. "And if that's what you really think, then you don't have to come. I'll make an excuse for you, if you want. Say you're sick, or something," He let go and gave her a fond smile, which melded into a frown at the conflicted look that appeared on her face. "Jamie?"

She returned his frown, and took a step back away from him. "But- you said it was important, and I-I was just being-"

"No, it's fine, honey," he said firmly, with a smile, "I'd never force you to do anything you don't want to do." He caught one of her hands in his larger one and gave it a brief, reassuring squeeze, before turning for the door. "I'll lock the front door behind me. Don't leave the house, I'll be back in a couple of hours. Have a nice night."

He made it three steps down the hall before a muffled pattering of footsteps and a soft call of 'dad' made him turn around again. Jamie stood in the doorway of her room looking quite conflicted, her tongue flickering amongst her teeth, which told him she was trying to find the right words to say.

"You said it was important, and I'm just being selfish. That's not fair to you." She took a great breath of air that seemed to calm her greatly, before saying, "I'll come, for a couple of hours, and I'll try, dad, I'll try."

James, feeling quite proud and worried at the same time, asked, "Are you completely sure?" and she nodded resolutely. "Okay then, go get ready and I'll meet you downstairs. But only if you're completely sure."

"I'm sure, dad." She then turned back with a glowing smile in place, and gently closed the door behind her.

"And I'm proud of you, my beautiful girl," James said. He walked down the stairs to wait, not once glancing at his watch.


	37. Brilliant

_Told myself this one wasn't going to be angsty._

_...I failed in that, didn't I? p:_

...

It was a complete cliché, really, but James Potter could remember the very moment his baby girl had first stolen his heart away quite vividly, and in great detail. It had been during one of Lily's numerous checkups at St Mungo's (because there were too many things that could go wrong with a normal pregnancy, and what with the War and genetic problem on Lily's side, neither of them had taken any risks) and the motherly Healer had held her wand up beside to Lily's growing stomach and told them to listen carefully, all with a bright smile on her face.

What James heard then had been the most amazing, wonderful, _brilliant_ sound he had ever heard in his life; the gentle _thump thump, thump thump_ of life, a little, still developing heart pumping away, and in that instant James knew he was gone as his entire being was suddenly devoted entirely to the tiny life growing inside his beautiful wife. Lily had cried, then, tears tracking down her pale face, and he had been so close to as well (manly tears, of course), as he'd kissed the bump with so much love and tenderness, it had been a physical ache, manifesting into a viscous lump in his throat. His baby, his wife, his _family._

With the beat of her heart, Jamie had stolen his, and from that day forward everything became so much more real.

…and so much more _painful_.

...

_Remember to leave a suggestion if you have one, and to check out my forum. Come on, you know you want to!_


	38. Daddy

_Little explanation for this: what happens after Lily dies is that Jamie gets taken to the Dursleys for the blood protection, and James doesn't see her again until she's ten, for complicated reasons (mostly 'cause he's ashamed). If I ever get around to actually writing it, you'll get the details. _

_This is also why I've been avoiding chapters set in Jamie's younger years, because, well, there's nothing really to do because James wasn't there. _

_Enjoy more angstiness!_

_Oh, and if you've made a request, it shouldn't be long. Stay tuned!_

…

Jamie has never, in her entire life, ever called him 'daddy'.

When she was a baby, it was always 'Da', 'Dada' or 'Pongs' (which Sirius had taught her, much to Lily's chagrin), but never 'daddy', not quite. She hadn't even gotten her cute little tongue around the word by the time Voldemort strolled through their front door, and took everything from him. They never even had the _chance_ to get to that stage, once Lily had gone and Dumbledore had Jamie shipped off to the Dursleys 'for her own (_bloody_) protection'. Of all the things in life he regretted, not raising her himself was his biggest one. Maybe if he'd fought back, he could have been 'daddy' to her.

But instead, by the time he walked back into her life and became her father again, she was already a mature young lady, and well past the 'daddy' stage. So he became plain, old 'dad', and sometimes even 'James' when she was really angry with him. But never, ever, 'daddy'. Not ever. The word would probably sound foreign and wrong on her lips if she were to actually say it one day.

So, he never got the chance to be 'daddy'. This realisation still leaves an bottomless, acidic ache of yearning in his stomach whenever he thinks about it.


	39. Promise

_Okay, so lightnings pride requested a funny chapter, so hopefully this fits that category. And then two guests requested some Remus and Sirius action, so here you go, two birds with one stone. Hope everyone likes it because I wasn't too sure about it!_

_Oh, and I'm sorry for my absence these past few weeks. I accidentally Supernatural. :3_

…

"Gentlemen," James Potter barked out, back straight and a grave expression in place as he paced back and forth within the small Godric's Hollow kitchen, his hands clasped tightly behind his back to give the impression of a military general ordering his troops, "I have gathered you here today for a matter of the utmost importance that needs all of our immediate attention."

James' audience, consisting of fellow Auror/best friend Sirius Black, and reluctant and unfortunately unemployed werewolf, Remus Lupin (both Marauders and the people he would trust with his life) sat up straighter in their seats, the former ex-teacher in the straight-backed dining chair and dog Animagus in his position leaning against the table. James continued, aware of the tension lines in both his friend's backs. He met their gazes with a grim determination.

"I'd like to draw your attention to a promise the both of you made in the very early hours of July 31st, 1980. A promise of the deepest importance concerning my daughter, Jamie, and her welfare."

At the mention of his goddaughter, Sirius sat up just a little bit straighter and unfolded his crossed arms, while a furrow had creased its way down Remus' forehead.

"The time has come, my brothers, for you to make good on this promise," James finished, turning dramatically so that he was standing directly in front of both the other middle-aged men.

"Anything for my pup, you know that," Sirius pitched immediately, with a sombre enthusiasm. James nodded his thanks, and turned his head towards Remus, who was frowning in a way that reminded James of their school days, when the werewolf had always thought more than both him and Sirius combined.

"'July 31st, 1980'?" the prematurely greying man asked in an inquisitive tone. "You mean the day Jamie was born? I'm sorry, but when did we make a- oh Merlin, are you kidding me," Remus groaned, pitching forward and burrowing his head into the palm of his hand. "You're talking about that oath you made us make that if Jamie ever got a boyfriend, we would all hunt him down mercilessly to 'protect her innocence', aren't you?"

"Correct, Remus! Ten points to Gryffindor for remembering," James said loudly, grinning, and all the serious tension deflated from the room. Remus sighed and slumped backwards in his chair in a familiar gesture of frustration, while Sirius now had an uncontrollably excited hum to him that only occurred when mischief was about to be managed.

"Oh man, I almost forgot about that!" the other Auror manly-giggled, limbs relaxing. However, they tensed up again almost immediately. "Wait, Prongs, are you telling me that some hormone-y prick's with _my_ Prongslet right now? What's his name? I'll make sure he thinks twice before he even dares to _touch_ her without my permission." To demonstrate his willingness to smite, Sirius pulled out his wand and gripped in menacingly, even going so far as to push himself off the surface of the table and spread his legs in a fighting stance.

"You two do both realise that Jamie's a very mature 14-year old girl who can make her own decisions and certainly _doesn't_ need you two clowns messing about with her personal business, _right_?" Remus said in a somewhat patronising tone, finally emerging from behind his hand to give both his long-time friends a withering look. Unsurprisingly, his comment went ignored.

"Well, I don't exactly know if she's actually seeing a boy at the moment… but she's definitely getting to that age; and let's face it, she's beautiful, and you know how teenage boys get with beautiful girls." James explained to Sirius, who was listening intently, wand still in hand.

"What, like you did with Lily?" Remus interjected pointedly with a raised eyebrow. This too was ignored and barely a glance was sent his way, so the werewolf rolled his eyes and sighed again, crossing his arms and settling down into his chair.

"You're absolutely right, Prongs," Sirius said fervently, his eagerness showing as he bounced about on the balls of his feet, "In fact, we should have been preparing for this a lot earlier. So, what's our plan of attack going to be when the time rolls around? Pranks? Threats? Removal of certain body parts?"

James gave a low chuckle, before it morphed into a curt business-like tone."That's what we'll need to figure out, Padfoot. Here, we can start planning now, today if you have the time."

With that, James, followed by Sirius (Who answered with a quick, "Of course I have the time!"), walked over to the table and dragged one of the heavy chairs back, plopping himself into it as he pulled out his wand. With a wave, a stack of parchment, several quills and an inkpot landed on the wood in front of him. Sirius sat down on the chair beside him, grinning doggishly from ear to ear as he pulled a sheet from the pile and began scrawling all over it in his famously messy hand.

"You two idiots are completely serious, aren't you?" Remus asked, resignation, disapproval and the tiniest bit of pride mingling in his voice.

James replied by looking over at his friend and holding out a quill in offering. "Moony? Any ideas? Come on, you_ know _you want to," he tempted, with a wide-eyed innocence. Remus lasted exactly five seconds before caving in with a whistling sigh that seemed to force it's way past his teeth.

"All right, you're lucky I love that girl like my own," he said, snatching the quill with a little more force than was necessary. "And anyway, I guess I did make a promise, didn't I?" With that, the scarred man attacked the parchment in front of him, but at a slower and more thoughtful pace than his companion.

"Merlin help the poor boy who breaks Jamie's heart," he added quietly.


	40. Heaven

_Lightning's pride asked for Jamie asking James about death and her mum. I thought this might fit better with the story, though, so I hope you all enjoy it! _

_Anndddd I'm once again back on holidays, so you know the drill- the possibility of me _actually_ writing will be slightly higher over the next fortnight. Stress the slightly. _

_Also, if you guys happen to be fans of Supernatural, keep an eye out on my profile 'cuz I'll have some fics up in the near future._

_Love you all, be well and thanks for reading. :3_

…

"Dad, do you believe in Heaven?"

The question comes, almost quite literally, out of nowhere. They're sitting down at the dining table for family dinner- just the two of them and a roasted chicken- and things have just dropped off into a comfortable, companionable silence after a hilarious retelling of a joke James had heard at work that day, when she asks it.

James almost chokes on his sprouts.

"He-Heaven?" he manages to say around the green vegetables clogging his mouth, and he swallows them quite quickly, all the while covering the moment with a cough. He gets nothing worse than a strange look from Jamie for his efforts.

"Yes, Heaven. As in, life after death, and all that," she replies, dropping her gaze and avoiding his eye as she starts playing absently with the mashed potato on her plate. He notices that her right hand is gripping onto the metal fork much tighter than usual, and a faint pink tinge is colouring her cheeks, indicating that the topic is not so out-of-the-blue as he thought- he knows the look of someone who has been working up the courage to ask a question, especially his little's girls rendition of it. Not for the first time, James laments how grown-up his daughter is, and how he really shouldn't let her be thinking about such depressing topics as death at just 12-years old.

"Well, I-I don't know, Jame, you've kind of put me on the spot," he says seriously and a little awkwardly, and she bites at her tongue, looking mildly disappointed. The expression tugs at his heart."But… well, I guess you have to go somewhere when you die, and Heaven is as good as anywhere. So, yeah, I guess I do believe in it."

He smiles at her, a small, reassuring one, and Jamie nods, smiling her own little smile in return. "I guess if you believe in it, then I believe in it too," she says softly, and her focus returns to her plate. They fall back into silence, this one the tiniest more on the awkward side, that lasts several minutes.

James has just finished scraping the last scrap of steamed carrot off of his plate when she speaks again.

"Hey dad… do you think mum's in Heaven?"

James freezes, feeling like his seat has dropped out from under him, tears stinging the edges of his eyes. He opens his mouth, and then closes it again, trying to find the right words to answer.

"Yes, honey," he finally croaks out, and Jamie gives him a wide-eyed look, "I definitely think she's up there, in Heaven, or wherever, looking down on us right now. And I bet she's smiling, and telling us how much she loves us and how proud of _you_ she is," he says tenderly, taking her smaller hand in his across the table and smiling a fatherly smile.

His daughter looks thoughtful for a few seconds, before she once again returns his smile, this time with a crooked grin. "That, or telling _you_ not to cry like a baby," she replies cheekily.

James laughs for the first time in a few minutes. "Yeah, that too."


	41. Balloon

_Hai guise. Sorry for long wait. You can blame school, Supernatural and Sprock for that. :3_

_Just a little announcement; if you head over to my forum, __**Harry Potter and the Genderbending Forum**__, you'll see I have a Christmas-themed writing challenge up! Go on, enter it. __**You know you want to…**_

…

It took only a flick of a wand and a lilt of a lip for the small, red water balloon to carefully float out of James' hand and across the garden, where it paused only to hover expectantly over his daughter's head. Her rear end planted on the garden bench and her nose firmly caught between the pages of a book, she didn't realise until it was much too late, and the entire hilarious scenario played out perfectly; the balloon fell with another quick flick, and Jamie glanced up just in time to squeak and curse, before copping a mouthful of water and latex, the thin membrane breaking apart with a small explosive force directly on her face.

"Dad!" she screamed out, jumping to her feet to spit water out and shake out her soaked pony-tailed head.

"Yes, honey?" he answered sweetly, matching her red-hot gaze with feigned innocence.

"You are _so_ going to pay for that!"

With that, she barrelled towards him, and they spent the next hour play-fighting that ended with another half-dozen water balloons being dropped on her head and a galleon-sized bruise forming on James' right arm. But it was worth it.

The book had been dropped and promptly forgotten.

…

_James is such an attention seeker. ^w^_


	42. Silent

_Sorry for the long wait. Actually had this ready weeks ago, but my virus protection has been blocking the account page. :/ _  
><em>Therefore, I am posting from my dad's computer at the moment. Hope you're all okay!<em>

_(also I'm 17 now!)_

...

He finds Jamie outside, the quarter moon shining down upon her as she sits on the wooden garden bench that is older than both of them- one of the few pieces of furniture he'd brought from his childhood home to Godric's Hollow. A familiar vacant expression is in place on her face.

Her arms are bare and her lips are blue, so he tenderly and quietly drapes a warm coat over her shoulders. But that is all he does; there is no gentle shepherding back into the house, or even a whisper of a warming spell. He knows she'll catch a cold in the brisk winter air, if she hasn't already, but he doesn't do anything of the sort.

Instead, he sits down beside her, joining her silent vigil, one arm around her shoulders.

He's doesn't make a sound, not even when hot tears burn their way down his cheeks.


	43. Tree

_Just as a note, please stop reading 'A Fascinating Distraction'. I'm serious, it's horrible and I just ugghh. _

_Also, I'm on Tumblr now. Same username, if you wanted to look me up (be-warned though, all I do is cry about school and reblog fandom crap)._

_This story is nearly at 100,000 views, so I'd like to take a minute to say thank you all, and what. No, seriously, this started out as a stupid little one-shot, and now 40 chapters later I'm still wondering what you're all doing here. Did you get lost on your way to a well-written, purposeful fic? _

…

"Jamie! What the hell do you think you're doing?" James yelled out angrily across the garden. From her nesting place a quarter of the way up the old oak tree which dominated the back left-hand corner of the yard, Jamie gave a startled, squeak-like noise and nearly fell, the surrounding branches jumping about as she scrambled to keep her balance. James ran the length of the garden in the space of three seconds, a hollow feeling of dread settling into his gut. There was a screech of _'MROW' _and Hero streaked down the branches with the agility only a cat possessed, dashing away to hide amongst James' wilting rose bushes as soon as his paws hit solid ground.

"Are you alright, honey?" he called out automatically, brushing his hands anxiously through his hair.

"Dad! You're back!" Jamie cried breathlessly down to him as the branches around her settled down, her arms clinging to the thick trunk and her face paler than usual. "Yeah, I'm fine. I, er, thought you were going to be out longer-"

"Get down from there, right now, before you hurt yourself!" James ordered, suddenly overcome, his face flushed with anger and hands balled into fists. He felt madder than he'd been in ages.

Jamie looked scandalised. "What? But I'm not even up that high and I-"

"I don't care, come down!" He shouted up to her, clutching at his short, dark hair with his breaths coming short and sharp.

"Fine, I'm coming!" Jamie replied hotly after a few seconds of irritated deliberation, swinging her legs off the branch and carefully placing her feet on the branch below her, which groaned under the additional weight. For her entire descent, James felt his heart jump about fearfully in his throat, right up until she jumped down, slightly ungracefully, right in front of him, and the feeling was replaced with relief.

"Any reason why you're being such a party pooper today?" his daughter said, crossing her arms with an aggravated eye, her lips thinly reminiscent of Professor McGonnagal's.

"You could have hurt yourself!" he said sternly, brushing a stray leaf out of her hair and finding comfort in the solidness of her shoulders, which he gripped just a little too tightly, "You nearly gave me a heart attack, Jame! I don't want to see you up there _ever _again, you hear me?"

Her reply was another scandalised look. "Why can't I-?"

"Jamie," he said seriously, looing her straight in the eye.

"Fine!" She said forcefully, brushing away his hands in annoyance and then pushing past him to stalk back towards the house.

James gave a deep sigh of relief, his heart still jumping about rapidly. He flinched when the sound of the door slamming echoed across the yard.


	44. Crown

_Hello. Been a while. Have something cute as compensation._

…

He finds her sitting cross-legged on the grass next to the flowerbed, twisting the final daffodil of a flower crown into place with her nimble fingers. It was a pretty amalgamation of colours and types, from tiny blue forget-me-nots to pink and white carnations, all expertly twisted and teased into line.

"Didn't think you were one for flower crowns," he chuckles as he pads towards her, and Jamie looks up at him with a cute, crooked smile that makes his heart swell.

"Well, who says I can't slay Dark Lords and be a pretty flower-crown wearing princess at the same time," she giggles uncharacteristically, pushing the last stem into place. He watches her carefully lift up the final product and inspect it from all angles, her hands delicately keeping the woven flowers together. She looked up at him with a soft, calculating eye, as if sizing him up. "Actually, you came out just in time. Come here, dad."

With a start, James realises what she wants.

"Wha- no, thank you, I'm good," he says, holding his hands out and taking a step back as Jamie brandishes the crown in the direction of his head.

"Don't be a baby. Come on, I made it for you. Please? For me?" She appraises her with pouty lips and puppy dog eyes, the lenses of her glasses glinting in the afternoon sun.

James melts, half-sighing half-laughing, before stepping forward, kneeling down and bowing his head in defeat. In an instant, she reaches forward, gently laying the circle of flowers upon his crown, leaning back a little to inspect the placement before adjusting it slightly. James feels like he's being crowned as a king.

"Beautiful!" Jamie cries.

James blushes, feeling silly.

"What exactly is the point of-?"

But before he can finish, she reaches down to snatch a second crown from the grass behind her, placing it upon her own head before beaming at him lopsidedly.

"Because," she states, with a wild gesture and a giggle, pulling from her jacket pocket an old camera. Before he can protest, she is kneeling beside him, one arm around his shoulder and the camera lens pointed at them. "Smile!" she exclaims, and James manages a grin, confusion rippling through him. There is a click as the picture is taken.

"Thanks dad!" his daughter says, giving him a wet kiss on the cheek before jumping to her feet and sprinting for the house, leaving James with dirty knees and questions. He touches his cheek and then his crown, trying to make sense of what has just happened.

He laughs.

Years later, when he is shuffling through old boxes of letters, he finds it- the photograph. It is yellowed and folded at the edges, evidently well-loved, but still legible. Jamie is giggling minutely, one arm out of sight holding the camera and the other hugging him, the delicate petal crown perched almost regally atop her messy hair. James himself is grinning goofily at the camera, a touch of confusion within his eyes as he glances from his giggling daughter to the camera lens. The crown atop his own head gives him a comical air.

James smiles at the memory, and then flips the photo over to find a scrawled ink message, instantly recognising Jamie's untidy scribble.

_Sirius-_

_Told you I could get him in a flower crown. Pay up._

He laughs, and then cries.

…

_All I can see is Jamie and James in the crowns looking so kawaiiiiiii~_

_Sorry for, you know, the sadness._


End file.
